#davrin Fluff

[loveandfictionforall]

Prompt: Davrin, caught in the rain, angsty but romantic :)

Their relationship was on a rocky path. Directly after recruting Davrin, you had to make the tough choice between Minrathous and Treviso. It made the whole team dynamic change. Neve wouldn't come back for a while, Lucanis was often tense, resulting to more appearances of Spite and that in turn made Davring tense. You could hear them often arguing, bordering on being mean to each other while they wound themselves up. It was a reason why you never went with both of them on missions, even when it would be most profitable. Every choice you made, gave you the feeling, Davrin disapproved of them. Sometimes he even voiced it.

So it was really surprising when he requested you to walk with him through the Arlathan Forest.

To be honest, it was really uncomfortable. Assan was flying about, always being near but far enough that he was always in your eyesight. The same didn't go for Davrin, who walked beside you in a brisk walk, tense shoulders and deafining silence. It made you uncomfortable. At first it was because it was *him*. You knew you had your differences but your heart didn't want to listen. Instead it hammered away, making your stomach squirm with those dreadful butterflies and you could always feel your cheeks getting redder by the second when he looked at you or you appreciated him while he was sparring in the open - without a shirt on. No, you shouldn't think about it. There would never come something out of it. And that thought made your stomach churn and your heart shudder in pain.

"Sooooo...", you began, awkwardly swinging your arms. "Why am I here?"

Davrin shoot you a side-eye glance. "I didn't make you come, you can always go.", was his response. A answer that made you gulp. You could feel how your heart sank into your stomach. Awkwardly you coughed slightly. So he didn't want to repair the strained bond?

"Uhm... Now I'm so far away from the Eluvian, I have no reason leave you here.", your reasoning didn't even make sense and you winced when you saw how Davrin raised an eyebrow at you. You coughed again slightly. Uncomfortable you bit on your lip, your sigh travelling past Davrin but snapping back to him when he heaved a big sigh.

"Look..", he started and turned his eyes away. "I though maybe we could talk. You could be a good leader...-", your eyes got bigger. You could feel how your emotions mixed together into a unhealty ball of anger.

"I *could* be a good leader? Are you saying I'm not doing good work?", you questioned him and by the way he furrowed his brows, you could already see the answer in him.

"No, you're not.", his voice shot clean like an arrow. Irritated you huffed.

"Yeah, you would be so much better. Do you know how difficult and destroying it is to make those tough decisions and knowing you can't help everyone?", you bit back in anger. The conversation shouldn't happen like that. Davrin and you shouldn't be so angry at each other.

"I would be better.", he snapped back, turning to you in his anger while stopping dead in the tracks. "Did you see Neve? How she looks? You're doubting every decision you made and that makes her only more angry at you! Have you even talked to her?" His words cut you deep. Mixed with your unrequited and dumb feelings, you just wanted to cry. You even had no words to say anymore.

And while you two were so focused on each other, you didn't notice how the normally clear blue sky turned grey and stormy. If you had noticed it, you would have even wondered when it last rained or even stormed in Arlathan. Everytime you were there, it was sunny and warm. So it took you both by surprise when the first rain drop landed on your nose. You hadn't even time react before the sky opened and rain poured heavy onto the ground, accompanied with heavy growling in the sky.

With wide eyes you stared up to Davrin who looked as shocked as you. Quickly he grabbed your arm before running straight through the woods. Some of the branches smacked you dead in the face while you still followed blindly Davrin.

"What are you doing?", you screamed against the heavy downpour and loud thunder.

"There is a cave.", was his own scream as he tugged your arm with him through the forest. You were focused on your legs, trying to catch up since Davrins longer legs were faster than yours. When he stopped, you weren't quick enough and instead you ran against Davrins wet, but lean form. And then you noticed, that the sounds were a bit muffled, no rain was slapping on your wet head and it was darker than before.

Before you could even say something, Davrin let go of your arm and instead worked through his hair. You felt breathless, staring at him while he looked past you.

"Look.", he stared again and involuntarily you tensed. His eyes met yours.

"I'm sorry. I should have said that. It was wrong from me. You aren't a bad leader and I see how much you're struggling with everything. It just makes me so angry that you don't talk to me..- I mean, to us. Instead you just try to help everybody but not yourself.", when Davrin finished, he finally met your eyes.

"You want that I talk to you?", to be honest you hadn't heard past that. It was like your body wasn't able to, your heart fluttering in hope.

"You never talk with me.", he quietly admitted.

"I though, you don't like me.", your honesty shocked him, you could see it by his eyes widening.

"What? No! I really like you!”, Davrin stopped dead in his tracks until he suddenly cursed in a language you couldn’t understand. What you could understand, was how your body reacted to his words. You didn’t want to hope but every fiber of your being did it anyway.

“I like you too.”, you quietly admitted, your voice small and shy. It was the hearty, warm chuckle of Davrin who made you look up. Not that you could see a lot since he grabbed you in a firm grip and pulled you towards him in a deep and reassuring hug.

“We are some idiots.” Davrin declared as he pulled you closer, tucking you under his chin and pressing a soft kiss on your head.

“Do you want to go out with me? On a date? Only if you want? I know a beautiful lake here that I know you would love.” It was cute how Davrin stammered, tumbling over his words. You could hear his heart beating, faster than normal, matching yours really good.

“I would love to.”, you whispered.

[writerfromshikahr]

I want to state this is not a "hate Neve" piece. I wrote this originally as a bit of a tongue in cheek nod to players (perceived) frustrations about the flirting between Neve and Lucanis if you're romancing him. It was a one off piece originally and then a friend of mine encouraged me to write the whole damn thing. It's silly and probably not the best writing I have ever done, but it's a fun read (oh and long)!

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First Cut - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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It had been a mistake to stay in the room earlier, to stand there and watch Lucanis and Neve exchange flirtatious banter.

Neve had laughed, bright and melodious, and Lucanis had responded with a smile that seemed to light up the whole damn Lighthouse. Right in front of her. In front of her. The pang in her chest had been immediate and deep, leaving her breathless and struggling to maintain her composure.

Now, as she stood in the quietest corner she could find, away from everyone else, the hurt replayed itself over and over, accompanied by the cruel voice of self-doubt that she couldn’t quiet. What did you think would happen, Rook?…she chided herself. That he’d notice you when someone like Neve exists?

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the familiar burn of embarrassment. Of course, Lucanis liked her. Why wouldn’t he? Neve was stunning, with her sleek, sophisticated appearance and the grace of a refined Minrathous mage. She always had the perfect thing to say, remaining calm under pressure and exuding an effortless charm that captivated everyone. Neve was flawless. Neve was everything a woman should be.

Rook, on the other hand, was… well, she let out a humourless laugh. She was “pleasantly plump,” as one Crow had called her, with thick thighs and a belly she had long since stopped trying to hide. Her Crow leathers had to be adjusted to fit her more comfortably around her hips and legs. Where Neve embodied elegance, Rook was simply Rook. Awkward, self-conscious, and hopelessly bad at saying anything clever, she always seemed to trip over her words or, worse, blurt out something completely foolish at the worst possible moments.

You thought he felt the same way about you, didn’t you? Her heart twisted painfully at the realization. What a cruel joke. The way he had looked at Neve today was proof enough, wasn’t it? She wasn’t his type. The message was received—loud and clear.

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Rook had become a master at avoidance over the past few days, though it was starting to wear her thin. Every time she caught a glimpse of Lucanis, her heart clenched painfully, so she did what she could to keep her distance. She slipped out of rooms when he walked in, buried herself in tasks that required her full attention, and, when it came to conversation, she only offered clipped, polite responses to Neve, refusing to engage in anything more. It hurt to keep her walls up, but it was the only way she could cope.

Instead, she found herself spending more time with Davrin and Assan, grateful for the easy friendship they shared. Davrin, with all his swagger and occasional theatrics, had a way of making her smile even when her heart felt heavy. He was like the big brother she never had, someone who made her feel safe and seen without any of the complications that seemed to swirl around Lucanis. And with the added charm of Assan, Davrin’s adorable toddler griffon companion, there was always something to laugh about.

Today, they’d ventured out to the Arlathan Forest, a welcome reprieve from the Lighthouse and all the tangled emotions that currently lived there. The forest was peaceful, a canopy of golden leaves rustling overhead, and Rook felt some of her tension ease. She and Davrin found a small clearing atop a rocky outcrop, perfect for Assan to practice his flying. The young griffon flapped his wings with eager determination, making little leaps and swoops that brought a genuine smile to Rook’s face.

They settled on the smooth granite, sharing a simple lunch of bread and cheese, and conversation flowed easily between them. Davrin regaled her with tales of growing up in Arlathan, his voice full of life and humour, and she listened, fascinated by his stories. In turn, he asked her questions about the Crows, and she answered as best she could, occasionally making light of some of the darker aspects of her life. They even exchanged stories about their respective fights—the Grey Wardens and their eternal struggle against Archdemons, and the Crows with their endless contracts and rivalries. Despite Davrin’s opinions about her line of work, he respected her. They had built a solid friendship, and she had come to value it deeply.

He could tell she needed this time away, and so he did what he did best: kept her entertained and laughing. Still, even with all the humour and warmth between them, Davrin wasn’t blind. He’d noticed that something seemed off, that Rook was more distracted than usual. And, more curiously, he’d noticed the absence of Lucanis. Usually, the two were practically joined at the hip, their bond undeniable. But now… there was a definite shift, and he wasn’t sure how—or if—he should bring it up. As he watched her thoughtfully, he finally spoke up, trying to sound casual.

“So… you gonna tell me what’s got you all twisted up, or are we just gonna pretend you haven’t been acting like your mind’s somewhere else entirely?”

Rook looked at him, startled by the question, but then she sighed, her shoulders sagging. She had hoped that spending time with Davrin and Assan would make her forget the pain, but there was no escaping how deeply it cut her. “It’s nothing,” she said softly, but even she could hear the lie in her voice.

Davrin didn’t push. He knew her well enough to know when to leave things be. Still, he reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze, his usual cheeky grin softening. “Well, whatever it is, you know I’ve got your back, right?” Assan warbled in agreement, flapping his wings like he was seconding the sentiment.

Rook’s lips twitched into a small smile. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was enough to have someone who cared, someone who could make the world feel a little bit brighter. Even if she couldn’t outrun her feelings, at least she had friends who made the burden easier to carry.

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Lucanis’s gaze lingered on Rook, his expression dark with confusion and frustration. She had gone out of her way to placing as much distance between them as possible, choosing the spot farthest from him at the table, right between Davrin and Taash. She occasionally spoke, and her lips curved into a soft smile when Davrin leaned in to whisper something that made her laugh. The sound, bright and genuine, only twisted the knife deeper into Lucanis’s chest. She hadn’t even spared him a single glance.

He took a sip of his soup, the taste barely registering, and let out a sigh that was loud enough to draw Lace’s attention as she grabbed seconds and plopped down beside him. “This is one of the best meals you’ve cooked, Lucanis,” she said with a grin. “Seriously, it’s delicious.”

He mustered a small smile at the compliment, but his eyes drifted back to Rook. He missed her terribly—her company, their conversations, and, most of all, the way her laughter used to be directed at him. Now, it was as if he had become invisible. What did I do? he thought, trying to piece together where he’d gone wrong.

Neve, who had also taken a seat nearby, picked up on his brooding mood. She arched an eyebrow and gave him a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me my assassin is feeling broody this evening?” she asked, her tone playful.

Lucanis’s eyes flicked over to her, unfocused. “What?”

Neve rolled her eyes, grabbing a piece of bread and dipping it into her soup. “I said, you seem broody tonight,” she repeated, though she didn’t seem all that concerned about it.

He nodded, distracted, and looked back at Rook, who was still doing her best to ignore him. “Perhaps I am, Neve,” he replied, the words tasting bitter. It was infuriating how Rook refused to acknowledge him as if he’d become a ghost. He had replayed every conversation and every moment from the past few days, trying to figure out when he might have crossed a line, said something careless, or given any reason for her to pull away. Yet he kept coming up empty.

Spite, normally full of commentary and sass, had fallen unusually silent. Then again, Spite tended to grow quieter whenever Neve was around.

Neve leaned closer, trying to pull his attention back to her. “Do you want to catch up this evening?” she asked, eyes sparkling with interest. “I found a book I think will be right up your alley.”

Lucanis had barely registered her words, his mind too full of the ache that was Rook. He blinked at Neve, his expression blank. “A book?” he echoed, his voice distant.

Neve, clearly unimpressed, shook her head. “Yes, Lucanis. I have one for you,” she repeated, with a touch of exasperation.

“Oh,” he said, realizing he’d made her repeat herself. “Sure, I’ll swing by later and get it from you.” His reply sounded mechanical like he was going through the motions. But then, out of nowhere, Rook’s laughter cut through the air, loud and free, a burst of joy that caught everyone’s attention. Even Taash choked on her drink, snorting with amusement.

Lucanis felt his heart sink further. Yeah, he thought miserably. I hate it here. Watching Rook smile at Davrin felt like punishment, and not knowing how to fix things between them was driving him mad. He had no idea how to bridge the growing distance or why he had ended up here in the first place, and that, more than anything, was the most frustrating part.

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Rook’s heart hammered in her chest as she froze in the hallway, seeing Lucanis waiting for her. Every instinct screamed at her to turn around and walk the other way, to avoid whatever painful conversation was about to unfold, but she knew she couldn’t keep running. You can do this, she told herself, her throat tightening. She drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and forced herself to speak.

“Lucanis,” she greeted, her voice carefully cool. “Is there something I can do for you?”

His brow furrowed, confusion and frustration warring on his face. “What is happening, Rook?” he asked, a hint of exasperation leaking through. “Why are you avoiding me?”

She looked away from his gaze, her eyes fixing firmly on the stone floor. If she looked at him—into those deep, dark eyes that always managed to see straight through her—she knew she’d cave. She wasn’t ready for that. For once, she was determined not to fold, to hang onto her anger, even if it pained her. “I’m not avoiding you,” she replied, her tone clipped. “I’ve been busy, you know, saving the world, fighting ancient gods… that kind of thing.”

Lucanis regarded her quietly, the weight of his gaze like a physical thing pressing down on her. “I see, have I said something or done something?”

Rook forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “No, I’m fine,” she said, her voice flat and devoid of the warmth she usually reserved for him. The fine was a lie, but she clung to it desperately. It felt safer than admitting how badly he’d wounded her. And it gave her a semblance of control over her heart, a way to shield herself from the crushing weight of feeling like she wasn’t enough.

Lucanis tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Fine?” he repeated, scepticism heavy in his voice. “Hmm. It doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”

He took a step closer, and Rook instinctively backed up, keeping the same distance between them. She wouldn’t let him close, not when her heart was so fragile. “Perhaps you should go pick up that book from Neve,” she shot back, “I’m sure she’ll have your favourite coffee brewed and waiting.”

Lucanis’s eyes widened a fraction, the hurt flashing across his features unmistakable. Before he could respond, she brushed past him, retreating into her room and closing the door behind her. She leaned against it, breathing hard, fighting the urge to cry.

In the hallway, Lucanis stood in stunned silence, the shadows around him deepening as he tried to piece together what had just happened. His head tilted slightly, confusion etched on his face. Was this about Neve? The question churned in his mind, sending him spiralling back through every conversation, every interaction with Neve, searching for any clue. Why would Rook mention her?

It was then that Spite finally spoke up, his voice echoing in the corners of Lucanis’s mind. “Tastes like… envy,” the demon mused, each word slow and almost thoughtful. “Yes. Bitter. Sharp.”

Lucanis’s eyes widened in sudden realization. Envy. Rook was jealous? His heart lurched at the thought, a mix of confusion, guilt, and something else he couldn’t quite name. Jealous of what? That was the bigger question, but he had a place to start, which was more than he had moments before.

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Lucanis listened to Neve, his gaze thoughtful as he leaned back into the couch, sipping his coffee. The cozy yet refined atmosphere of her room couldn’t fully soothe his restless mind. "Jealous? Of me? Odd," Neve mused, sounding genuinely perplexed. "We aren't exactly bosom buddies, but we've always had a good working relationship. She's a capable archer, highly recommended if you listen to House de Riva. And she’s... well, sweet. Maybe a little too sweet at times. The world can be harsh, and people like Rook don't always make it out in one piece."

Lucanis tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Sweet? Yes, she is,” he agreed, but there was more to it. “there’s strength in her, too. The kind that can get us through this, no matter how bad things get.” He paused, searching Neve’s eyes. “You know why Viago sent her out of Antiva, right?”

Neve nodded, her brow knitting together slightly. “I got the gist from him. He seemed… displeased.”

Lucanis’s smile widened a fraction. “Viago is always displeased,” he said with a hint of humour, “but he does have a soft spot for Rook, even if he won’t admit it. She climbed the ranks fast. Full membership with the Crows at a young age. Orphaned and taken in by House de Riva when she was around eight. But what got her exiled was taking initiative where she shouldn’t have.” He swirled his coffee, his eyes reflecting a complicated mix of pride and sadness. “She has heart—a soft one, maybe—but she freed a group of prisoners and slaves one night, prisoners the Antaam would’ve had executed. Varric was among them. You know that part.”

Neve leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Yes, but?”

“But,” Lucanis continued, “her actions derailed a much larger operation. She saved lives, but it cost the Crows.. That’s what led to her downfall.” He stared into his coffee, the steam curling up like ghostly whispers. “She’s got a good heart.”

Neve considered his words, sitting beside him and absorbing the weight of what he’d said. “A good heart that ultimately got her kicked out of her city,” she pointed out, “But that doesn’t explain why she’s jealous of me.”

Lucanis gave her a wry smile, one brow lifting slightly. “I figured the renowned Minrathous detective might have some insight to bestow upon me.”

Neve laughed, the sound warm and clear. “Oh, sure. Because I’m great with people, right?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Tell you what: maybe I’ll have a word with Davrin. They’re close. Leave it with me, and I’ll get back to you.”

Lucanis's smile softened, but his heart felt heavy with uncertainty. "I appreciate it," he said, though the thought of Rook feeling hurt, even if it was out of jealousy, left an ache in his chest that he couldn't quite shake.

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“Jealous?” Davrin echoed, his eyebrows rising with genuine surprise. “Of you? Hmm... nope. She hasn’t said anything to me, but she has been distracted. Yeah, that’s the right word.” He set down his latest whittling project, a small wooden figure of what looked like a griffon, and studied Neve with his usual thoughtful expression. “But she hasn’t said anything to you?”

Neve shook her head. “Nothing, I’m afraid.”

Davrin let out a sigh, leaning back. “Look, Rook is a good person, but even I know some people need space from time to time. I’m not going to pressure her into telling me anything she doesn’t want to share. But...” he trailed off, tapping his chin, “she and Lucanis used to be practically joined at the hip. Wherever he was, she’d be right there. If you ask me, she’s sweet on him, and it’s not just that whole Crow loyalty thing.”

Neve’s eyes widened slightly. “She has a crush?”

Davrin shook his head with a small smile. “No, not a crush. She likes him. I can see it in the way she is around him, and I know her pretty well.”

Neve frowned, her mind racing. “So... what do I have to do with all of this? Seems a little strange that I’d be involved.”

Davrin tilted his head, smirking a little. “Well, who told you she was jealous?”

“Lucanis,” Neve replied, sounding almost exasperated.

“But who told him?” Davrin shot back, a knowing grin on his face.

Neve paused, then rolled her eyes. “Spite told him,” she admitted with a touch of reluctance.

Davrin’s laughter burst out, loud and unapologetic. “Oh, so we’re taking the word of a demon now?” He shook his head, clearly entertained. “This is hilarious.”

Neve threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, Lucanis takes him seriously! And to be fair, that demon has never led us astray.” Her lips twitched with a hint of amusement despite herself.

Davrin exhaled, the humour fading to something more contemplative. “All right, leave it with me. Rook and I are heading out to Lavendel together soon. I’ll have a chat with her, and see if I can make sense of this mess.”

Neve nodded, a small smile of relief crossing her face. “Thanks, Davrin. Just... tread carefully, okay? Whatever’s going on, it matters a lot to her.”

Davrin gave her a mock salute. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” But as he picked up his whittling project again, he couldn’t help but wonder if his friend was ready to admit the truth to herself.

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"What the fuck, Davrin? Who told you that?!"

Davrin blinked in surprise at Rook's outburst. "Who told you I was jealous of Neve?!"

"Hey, I’m just asking for interested parties. They figured I’d know what’s up with my friend," he replied, holding his hands up defensively.

Rook turned away from him, her fists clenched at her sides. She was too angry to speak—not at Davrin, no. Davrin could annoy her, sure, but Lucanis? He could make her seethe. And knowing that this line of questioning was coming from Neve of all people made her want to throw herself straight into the Fade, never to return.

"Rook," Davrin said quietly, his tone unusually gentle, "I promise, I won’t breathe a word if you tell me what’s bothering you. Warden’s honor."

Rook glanced at him, catching the earnestness in his expression. For once, he wasn’t cracking a joke to lighten the mood. She let out a sharp exhale and looked away again, debating whether to open up. Finally, she gave in.

“I swear to the Maker, if you report back to them, I’ll take out a contract on you,” she grumbled before the words burst out of her. “It’s the fucking flirting! Neve and Lucanis flirt all the fucking time, and I’M RIGHT FUCKING THERE! They just flirt like I’m invisible. I—well…” She hesitated, then plunged ahead. “I like him, and he never flirts with me. Never mentions anything about buying me something at the markets, or, ‘Hey, Rook, here’s a flower I picked for you,’ or anything like that. Nothing! I get nothing. It’s infuriating. What is wrong with me? Well, I know what’s wrong with me. Look at me. Look at this!”

She grabbed her thigh angrily, gesturing in frustration.

Davrin didn’t interrupt. He just listened, his expression calm and steady, letting her vent it all out.

“She’s perfect,” Rook continued, her voice shaking with anger. “Perfect hair, perfect outfits, perfect everything. And then there’s me—always saying the wrong thing, always crumpled. And he’s all, ‘Wow, Neve, great shot,’ while I’ve just literally slaughtered ten thousand darkspawn and not once does that man say anything.”

Davrin waited a beat to make sure she was finished before speaking. “I see. Well, thank you for finally telling me. I feel like we’re making progress here.”

Rook shot him a sharp look, her frustration now turning toward him.

“So, you like Lucanis,” Davrin said with a knowing smile. “I thought as much. I mean, it was obvious to me—everyone else seems to be walking around with blinders on.”

Rook groaned, dramatically flopping her head into her hands. “Don’t tell me that, Dav. It’s not making me feel any better. I already feel like the biggest idiot alive. I guess Viago was right.”

Davrin slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, his tone soft but firm. “That’s my friend you’re talking about, and I don’t take kindly to people putting her down. Question is, where do you go from here?”

Rook let out a long, exhausted sigh. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m so angry at him right now. And unfairly pissed off at Neve. But I can’t forgive him yet. I’m far too in my ‘petty era’ right now.”

“I can tell, Rook,” Davrin began, his voice steady but not unkind. “Thing is, he doesn’t know what he’s done. Not sure how the man is supposed to make amends if he isn’t told.”

Rook stared off into the small village that Davrin and her had spent the last two days protecting from the Blight, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. “How does he not know? The man is a walking romance novel with her! Why doesn’t he do that with me?” She paused, her voice dropping into something quieter. “I know I’m not like her… I get that…”

Davrin cut her off before she could spiral any further. “For the love of the Maker, Rook, you’re gorgeous. Why do you keep comparing yourself to her? Sure, you’re nothing like Neve, but you’re you, and that ain’t bad.”

Rook gave him a deadpan stare, one eyebrow arching. “Really? Now you’re hitting on me?”

“Fuck no,” Davrin shot back with mock indignation. “I know who your boyfriend is... and he terrifies me.”

Rook snorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “He’s not my boyfriend. I have no idea what we are. At the moment, he just annoys me.” She let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I’m going to have to talk to him, aren’t I?”

There was a note of defeat in her voice, like she was resigning herself to some inevitable punishment.

“Fuck… why do I have to be the one to do it? I want him to apologize. I want him to beg for forgiveness.” She groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Wow, I really am being petty.”

Davrin grinned, his expression both amused and supportive. “Yes, but it suits you.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you want me to say something to him? Informing him of his gross oversight of sneaking around trying to find out what’s wrong with you and then maybe steer him toward an ‘ah-ha’ moment?”

“You’d do that for me?” she asked quietly, her voice softer now, vulnerable.

“Of course,” Davrin said with a mock-serious nod. “Killing darkspawn, being a baby daddy to Assan, and sorting out budding romances at the Lighthouse? Those are my specialties.”

Rook rolled her eyes and playfully swatted his arm. “Dumbass.”

Davrin grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Maybe so,” he said, leaning back with exaggerated confidence, “but I’m your dumbass. And where would you be without me?”

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Lucanis had been quiet all day. Davrin knew he was a man of few words, but today’s outing with him and Lace had been decidedly less chatty than normal. Now, they sat around a tavern table, finally letting some warmth soak into their bones. The Lighthouse’s perpetual twilight made it easy to forget the biting cold of Thedas, but the roaring fire beside them was a rare luxury this evening.

Davrin watched Lucanis as he stared into his coffee mug, the steam curling up like ghosts between his hands. Lace was busy chatting with the patrons at a nearby table, her laughter carrying faintly over the hum of conversation.

“So, Lucanis,” Davrin said casually, breaking the silence. “You’ve been a little quiet today. Anything amiss?”

Lucanis looked up, his dark eyes sharp, “I’m not in the mood.” His tone was flat, cold.

For a moment, silence hung between them, but Davrin wasn’t one to back down so easily. He leaned back in his chair, watching Lucanis carefully. “I see that,” he said finally. “Wondering if I can help you out with that?”

Lucanis sipped his coffee, his gaze distant, and he could tell he was mulling something over. “You know Rook well,” the assassin said after a long pause. “Probably better than I.”

Davrin shifted in his chair, not entirely sure where this was going. He prayed to the Maker it didn’t involve knives. “Ahhh, yes,” he replied cautiously. “Though I’d say you know our fearless leader pretty well too.”

“I’m not so sure of that.” Lucanis’s words were quiet but firm, his eyes flicking back to him for a moment before returning to his coffee cup.

Davrin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m guessing you’re looking for answers,” he said lightly, nodding toward the mug. “Doubtful you’ll find them in there, my friend.”

A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at Lucanis’s lips. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But coffee is good for reflection.” He paused, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him visibly. “I’ve done something. I know I have. But she won’t tell me what it is, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well, I know what you’ve done.”

Davrin smiled slyly, taking a sip of his beer like he wasn’t about to drop a bombshell. “It’s your lucky day, Crow.”

Lucanis stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. “You know?”

The Warden nodded, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Sure do. And I can’t say it’s an easy fix—for you, at least. But,” he added, setting his mug down with a heavy clink, “if you applied as much effort into correcting your mistake as you do into flirting with a certain detective, you might just win her heart back.”

Davrin punctuated his sentence with a deep, exaggerated gulp of his drink, clearly pleased with himself.

Lucanis just looked at him, his face blank, and said nothing for the longest while. The lively chatter and laughter of the tavern seemed to fill the silence as Davrin waited, unsure if he had heard him.

“Flirting?” Lucanis repeated, his tone a mix of disbelief and offense. “With Neve? Flirting, as in me being suggestive with Neve?”

Davrin smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you need to say it a third time, Crow? Whatever way you cut it, it still sounds a bit... shit.”

Lucanis blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if to argue, but Davrin pressed on, clearly enjoying himself.

“I guess Rook just got fed up with hearing about you wanting to buy Neve fresh fish and flowers at the market.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Oh, and I think she said—” Davrin cleared his throat for dramatic effect—“and I quote: ‘And he’s all, “Wow, Neve, great shot,” while I’ve just literally slaughtered ten thousand darkspawn, and not once does that man say anything.’”

He leaned back with a satisfied grin, taking another sip of his beer. “Yeah, I think that about covers the gist of what she vented to me for a solid 45 minutes.”

“Mierda,” Lucanis muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

Davrin waved at the serving girl over with a grin. “Yes, you’re screwed, Lucanis,” he said cheerfully. “But, as I mentioned, you can make this better… I think.” He ordered another beer for himself and a fresh coffee for his brooding friend.

Lucanis’s brow furrowed, his voice low and resigned. “What else did she say? I need to know just how much of a gilipollas I’ve been.”

Davrin laughed, the sound loud enough to turn a few heads nearby. “I’m assuming that’s something bad—and if it is, you deserve it.” He leaned back, his grin widening. “Let’s see… what else did she say? Oh, right!”

Davrin sat forward, lowering his voice to mimic Rook’s, exaggerating her frustration: ‘Nothing! I get nothing. It’s infuriating. What is wrong with me? Neve and Lucanis flirt all the fucking time, and I’M RIGHT FUCKING THERE! They just flirt like I’m invisible.’ He leaned back with a satisfied smirk. “And, of course, more liberal usage of the word ‘fuck.’”

“I don’t know what to say,” Lucanis muttered, his voice low. He slumped back in his chair, looking more defeated than Davrin had ever seen him. “I’m not sure what I’m meant to say. I don’t mean anything by it—the flirting. I never thought…”

“No, you didn’t,” Davrin cut in sharply, holding up a hand to stop him. “Why would you? You ask her for advice on gifts for Neve, buy her nothing, and expect everything to be fine?” He shook his head, leaning forward. “Shit, Lucanis, you could pick Rook a flower off a random bush in Arlathan, and she’d be insufferably happy for days. I do it all the time for her, and I don’t even want to fuck her.”

Lucanis’s brow furrowed deeper, but he didn’t interrupt.

Davrin leaned back with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bare minimum, my friend. Bare. Minimum. And you’ve somehow managed to fall below that. Impressive, really.”

He punctuated his words with a long swig of his beer, shaking his head as he set the mug down.

“So, this is how you’re going to fix this,” Davrin began, pointing a finger at Lucanis for emphasis. “After we’re done at this outpost, we’re heading home, and you are going to beg for some kind of forgiveness. Kneel if you have to. Hell, throw in a prayer to the Maker while you’re at it and hope that gorgeous woman decides to give you another chance.”

Lucanis stared at him, his mouth opening slightly, but Davrin didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And keep your damn mouth shut around Neve,” Davrin continued, leaning forward for extra emphasis. “I get it—Neve is damn fine to look at. But those thoughts? Inside thoughts, not outside thoughts, Lucanis. And for the love of everything holy, make sure your demon is on board with this too.”

Lucanis fiddle with the handle on his cup, guilt practically radiating off him, but Davrin wasn’t done.

“She likes you, I know she does. But she’s hurt, and a woman scorned is a terrifying force of nature.”

Davrin sat back, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “So what’s the plan, Crow?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Lucanis muttered, running a hand down his face. “I’ll think of something. I’ll fix this.”

He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Davrin.

“It better be good,” Davrin said pointedly, leaning back in his chair. “Because she is pissed, and I don’t blame her. And for the love of the Maker, can you tell her that you like her? It’s clear as day to me, but she has no idea. She thinks you don’t even see her.”

Lucanis opened his mouth to retort, but Davrin barreled on.

“This whole ‘I’m possessed by a demon and I can’t love anyone’ trope is old, Lucanis. If you can charm Neve halfway around Minrathous, you can bloody well lavish some of that charm on Rook.”

“I’ll fix it,” Lucanis said firmly, though the conviction in his voice wavered just slightly. “And… thank you, for letting me know.”

Davrin gave him a hearty pat on the back, his grin equal parts teasing and supportive. “I don’t envy you, Lucanis. I thought fighting the ancient Gods was going to be tough, but this? Seems like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Lucanis let out a quiet breath, half a smile tugging at his lips. He knew Davrin was right.

----------------------------------------------------------

He found her up on the balcony, as he expected. Rook often went there to read when she needed space from everyone else. Davrin slid onto the bench beside her, and they sat in comfortable silence, the quiet of the moment broken only by the rustle of pages and the distant sounds of the Lighthouse.

Assan nuzzled his head against Rook’s arm, demanding pats, which she happily obliged, scratching behind the young griffon’s ears.

“It’s good to have you back,” she said finally, her voice soft but genuine. “I missed you. Did it go well?”

Davrin smiled, leaning back. “Of course it did. Harding is a terrible cook, though... but apart from that, we got the job done.”

Rook huffed a laugh, but before she could reply, Davrin added, almost too casually, “Oh, and I spoke to the Crow.”

Rook froze for a moment, her smile faltering. “Oh, Maker, how did that go?” She waved a hand before he could answer. “You know what? Don’t tell me. I’ve been perfectly happy here without him.”

Davrin turned his head, giving her a pointed side-eye. “Sure, sure... you’ve been perfectly happy.”

Rook glared at him over the top of her book, but he wasn’t done.

“He knows what he’s done wrong now,” Davrin continued with a shrug, “and is, and I quote, ‘formulating a plan,’ whatever the fuck that means.”

“A plan?” Rook repeated, her gaze drifting off into the endless expanse of the Fade sky. She hesitated, her fingers absently scratching Assan’s feathers as she gathered her thoughts. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want complete honesty. Even if it’s not what I want to hear.”

Davrin tilted his head, his smile softening. “Always.”

Rook turned to him, her voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “Does the man even remotely like me?”

Davrin’s grin widened as he leaned back against the railing, taking a moment before answering. “Rook,” he said slowly, “I watched the blood drain out of the his face when I laid it all out on the table for him. I have never seen such a sorry sight.” He paused, his tone turning more sincere. “If that’s any indication of what he’s feeling, I think he’s sweet on you.”

Rook’s lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable.

“He’s clueless,” Davrin added with a shrug. “I doubt he’s ever had a relationship before. Doesn’t excuse what he did, but I know he’ll fix it—or at least try to.”

Rook leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why is life so hard? Everything feels so complicated, and I’m so tired. I know you said I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone, but… I don’t always feel strong, you know?” She paused, her fingers idly stroking Assan’s feathers. “Have I blown this all out of proportion? I think… I think I need to speak to Neve. She’s lovely—I know she is.”

Davrin stayed quiet for a long moment, his usual humor replaced by a thoughtful stillness.

“I think, sometimes, Rook,” he said softly, “you don’t see yourself the way the rest of us see you. At the heart of it all, you’re a good person. And yes, you’re beautiful too.”

Rook shifted slightly, about to protest, but Davrin pressed on.

“People come in all shapes and sizes. That doesn’t make anyone worth less than the next person. Maybe instead of comparing yourself to what you’re not, you should take a hard look at all the amazing things you are. All the shit you’ve accomplished under impossible odds. Hell, you’ve even put Solas in his place a few times—and that guy’s a dick.”

“That’s a weird way to ask me out on a date, Dav,” Rook said with a small smile, her eyes glinting with playful mischief.

Davrin laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the balcony. “You wish, de Riva. You and me would never work out.” He leaned back, grinning. “Besides, I come with a kid in tow—parenthood is tough.”

Rook chuckled, scratching Assan under the chin as the griffon chirped contentedly.

“Nah,” Davrin continued, “I think you’re more suited to the stabbity-stab life of Crow intrigue. I’m just a simple man, a Grey Warden with modest needs. You’d outlive me, no doubt, and I can’t have you being all mopey about the charming and heroic warrior you once knew.”

----------------------------------------------------------

She heard the faint rustle of a note slipping under her door just as she was drifting off to sleep. For a moment, she considered leaving it there until morning, her exhaustion tugging at her. But curiosity got the better of her.

Pulling the blanket tightly around her shoulders, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering as her feet touched the cold floor. With a quiet sigh, she padded across the room, picked up the envelope, and sank into the worn couch by the window.

The candlelight flickered softly, casting long shadows as she slid her finger under the seal. The handwriting inside was instantly familiar, and her breath caught as she unfolded the letter.

-----

Rook,

I have thought about what to write in this letter to you for days as we made our way back home. I am usually good at making plans and coming up with solutions to any problem. Unfortunately, in this case, I am the problem, and I don’t know how to fix the hurt I’ve caused you.

That being said, I will try to make this right. If you decide not to accept my apology, I will understand. But if you can find it in your heart to let me make this up to you, I would be grateful.

Meet me in Treviso tomorrow evening at my favourite café—you know the one. We went there not long after I joined you at the Lighthouse.

I will wait for you.

—Lucanis

-----

Rook sank back into her couch, the letter still clutched against her chest. Stupid Antivan man, she thought, her lips twitching into a faint smile despite herself.

She couldn’t deny it—no matter how frustrated she was, no matter how much she wanted to stay angry—she was willing to hear him out.

----------------------------------------------------------

There was a knock at the door.

“Can I come in, Rook?” Neve’s voice was soft but firm.

From inside, she heard a flurry of shuffling, a thud, and several muffled expletives. Finally, the door creaked open.

“Yes, come in,” Rook said, rubbing her toe with a wince. “I’m just getting ready to…”

Neve smiled knowingly. “Meet Lucanis in Treviso. I know.”

Rook sighed, slumping back slightly. “Of course you know. He probably told you.”

She moved to the couch, sitting down to pull on her boots, her movements stiff with nervous energy. Neve stepped inside, her gaze drifting to the window where the shimmering fish swam lazily outside.

“You really do have the best room at the Lighthouse,” Neve remarked, her voice distant. “No wisps, just the fish.” She turned back to Rook, her expression softening. “No, he didn’t tell me. Davrin did.”

Rook paused, her hands hovering over her laces.

“I wanted to stop by and tell you to enjoy yourself,” Neve continued. “If I know Lucanis, he’ll have a wonderful evening planned for you.” She hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, her tone quieter but no less sincere. “And I also wanted to tell you... I envy you.”

Rook’s head snapped up in surprise. “Envy me?”

Neve gave a small, bittersweet smile. “He’s a good man, apart from the whole abomination thing he’s got going on.” Her smile widened slightly, a hint of humor in her voice. “I’ll admit, I entertained the idea of him and me once. But it was clear his heart had already chosen another.”

Rook opened her mouth to respond, but Neve cut her off gently.

“Like all men, he’s a bit of an idiot, and he’s made mistakes,” Neve said, her gaze steady. “But if you let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Rook admitted, her voice quieter now. “I do feel stupid for being unkind to you. I’m sorry about that.”

Neve waved the apology away with a small smile. “No need for deep and meaningfuls, Rook. We’re both busy women with jobs to do. But tonight?” She stepped closer, her expression softening. “You have a date with a Crow.”

Rook shifted awkwardly, Neve’s eyes scanning her as if assessing her readiness. “I know,” Rook said, glancing down at herself. “I’m in my leathers. I probably should have dressed—”

Neve cut her off with a laugh. “I saw Lucanis leave for the Eluvian. He was dressed in his too. Are you Crows ever not on the clock?”

Rook chuckled despite herself. “You’ve met my boss, right? Viago?”

Neve grinned. “Point taken.” She reached for the door, her hand hovering for a moment before turning back. “Anyway, enjoy your evening. I hope it’s everything you need and want.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Davrin had insisted on accompanying her through the Eluvian to Treviso, despite her protests.

“You didn’t need to escort me, Dav,” Rook said as they stepped out into the bustling city. She smoothed down her cloak, her tone exasperated but affectionate. “I’m more than capable of navigating a city I’ve lived in most of my life.”

“Yeah, I know,” Davrin replied with a casual shrug. “But I did need to come here. Lucanis has me set up with his blacksmith. And, well…” He paused, glancing sideways at her. “I wanted to make sure you got here okay. If things go south, you know I’m around.”

Rook nudged him with her elbow, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve never had a brother, but you are bordering on the whole ‘protective big brother’ vibes right now. And I have to say, it suits you.”

Davrin smiled shyly, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you’re pissed at Dellamorte,” he said softly. “I get it. But let him speak. Give him a chance, Rook.”

She sighed, her gaze dropping for a moment. “I’m not that angry anymore. I spoke to Neve before heading here—she came to my room.”

Davrin raised an eyebrow, his expression suddenly amused. “Please tell me she left said room. I know what you Crows are like,” he added with a chuckle.

Rook rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “She’s very much alive, thank you. And she said something… odd. Something I wasn’t expecting.”

“Oh?” Davrin leaned in, curious.

“She said she was envious of me,” Rook admitted, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Davrin stopped in his tracks, raising both eyebrows now. “Well, well,” he said with exaggerated flair. “It seems we’ve come full circle. Now she’s jealous of you! I believe I’m experiencing whiplash.”

As they walked along the bustling streets of her hometown, Rook couldn’t ignore the faint queasiness in her stomach. She wasn’t angry anymore—not really. More… disgruntled. But there was no venom behind the feeling now. Lucanis had made a mistake, and, if she was being honest with herself, she’d probably blown it out of proportion—a tendency she sometimes leaned into more than she should.

At least she’d managed to entertain everyone at the Lighthouse with the intrigue and drama.

“Ahhh, I love it here,” Davrin mused, breaking her train of thought. His eyes roamed the lively street, the laughter and chatter of the city swirling around them. “Great atmosphere, excellent food, and some rather beautiful distractions for the taking.”

Rook rolled her eyes, her nerves briefly forgotten as she fought back a smirk.

“And it seems,” Davrin added with a dramatic flourish as they neared the café, “I have delivered you to your destination, my Queen.” He swept into an exaggerated bow, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Maker, you’re an idiot,” Rook said, shaking her head with a smile. “But I love you despite it.”

Davrin grinned and placed both hands firmly on her shoulders, leaning in just slightly. “You’ve got this, Rook. Go forth and get your man and—let him speak. He can actually be pretty good at it, you know, when he’s not saying all the wrong things.”

Rook took a deep breath, her nerves settling just enough to nod. “Wish me luck?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

Davrin shook his head, his grin softening into something more earnest. “Nah, you don’t need it. You’ve got this, girl. No luck required.”

He stepped ahead and held the door open for her. She squared her shoulders and walked through, the warm hum of the café greeting her as she crossed the threshold.

Davrin lingered outside for a moment, watching her disappear inside. He knew, deep down, it would all be okay. But still, a small pang of worry tugged at him—for his friend, for her heart, and for the man she was about to face.

----------------------------------------------------------

The café was empty.

Anxiety, her old and unwelcome friend, crept up her spine as she glanced around the dimly lit space. Had she gotten the wrong day? The wrong time? Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she dug into her bag, pulling out the note Lucanis had sent. She unfolded it with shaky fingers, scanning the words again, double-checking that she hadn’t misread anything.

No. She was in the right place.

But as her eyes flicked to the counter, the absence of anyone behind it made her chest tighten further. The café felt eerily quiet, the usual hum of conversation replaced by the soft ticking of a clock.

Now she felt like the idiot. Where was he? And why was she standing awkwardly in an empty coffee shop at eight o’clock at night?

As a Crow, this screamed assassination attempt, and the thought made her pulse quicken. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her hand instinctively drifted to the hilt of the blade hidden beneath her cloak.

Not that she’d ever killed anyone with a dirk before—a bow and arrows was her usual go-to—but the weight of the blade under her fingers offered some small comfort. Her unease grew as she wandered further into the café, cautiously checking dark corners and peeking around the pillars.

She moved closer to the counter, her nerves prickling with every step, when suddenly, Lucanis popped up from behind it.

“Maker’s breath!” Rook yelped, jumping back, her heart hammering as she glared at him.

Lucanis stood there, his dark eyes warm as they met hers, and a small, gorgeous smile spread across his lips—the one that always managed to disarm her.

“Rook,” he said softly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “You came.”

“Why were you hiding behind the counter?!” Rook exclaimed, her voice sharp with surprise.

Lucanis straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his leathers. “I was looking for sugar,” he said matter-of-factly. “I know you like your coffee sweet and hot. Good news: I found it.”

He turned his attention to the coffee pot, busying himself with making their drinks as if nothing about this was out of the ordinary.

Rook crossed her arms, glancing around the empty café. “And you now own this place?” she asked, her tone tinged with amusement.

Lucanis smirked, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I asked the owner for a favor and promised to pay him back with a free contract.”

Rook blinked in surprise before letting out a laugh. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not,” she said, shaking her head. “You never work for free.”

“Sometimes I do,” Lucanis said with a small smile, handing her the steaming cup. “Let’s sit… the table over there.”

He gestured toward a cozy corner, and Rook’s gaze followed. The table had been set perfectly, a small display of her favorite desserts arranged neatly on a plate, waiting for her.

Her lips twitched in a faint smile as she followed him. They settled into their chairs, and for a moment, a comfortable silence fell between them as they both enjoyed the first few sips of their drinks.

Lucanis leaned back, cradling his cup in his hands. “Good coffee...And yours?”

Rook took another sip, savoring the warmth and sweetness. It was perfect—just the way she liked it. “You know it’s good,” she replied, glancing at him over the rim of her cup. “If there’s one thing you never fail at, it’s making it exactly the way I like it.”

A satisfied smile spread across his face, lighting his dark eyes.

Setting her cup down, Rook slipped off her gloves and laid them neatly on the table, the nervous energy in her hands too much to contain. Lucanis noticed, of course—he always did. He knew her tells. Whenever she was anxious, she’d fidget, her fingers tracing the stitching of her coat over and over again or right now, fiddling with her gloves,

“Rook…” he began, his voice soft, testing the waters, “I’m sorry—” , but Rook cut him off.

“I know I’m an idiot,” she blurted, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I should have just told you, and instead it became this whole thing involving everyone, and I didn’t mean for it to get so... big. It was stupid of me.”

Lucanis watched her for a long moment, his gaze steady and unreadable. Then, without a word, he placed his hand gently over hers.

“Rook,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what? I’m not doing anything,” she replied, immediately defensive. She picked up her cup again, taking a long sip—anything to avoid his gaze.

“Blaming yourself. Apologising for things you don’t need to apologise for,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. “I am the one to blame for your worries. I was the one who hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t know,” Rook said quickly, her words tumbling out before she could think better of them. “And if I hadn’t been so damn stubborn—or dare I say petulant—I could have just told you. But I felt… well, I did feel stupid.”

Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, her voice softening as she admitted, “You were an arse though.”

A faint smile flickered across his face, but he stayed quiet, waiting.

“Why did you do it?” she asked, her eyes meeting his briefly before darting away. “It’s okay if you want to—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, before her mouth could betray her further, she grabbed one of the neatly arranged cakes from the plate and shoved it into her mouth.

It worked—a bit too well. She sat frozen for a moment, cheeks puffed with cake, as the realisation of what she’d just done hit her. Across the table, Lucanis raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.

It took forever to get through the sugary treat—she’d completely forgotten how chewy they were. Looking effortlessly graceful with a mouthful of cake was not the impression she’d been going for.

Lucanis, ever observant, seized the opportunity to speak before she could finish. It might be the only way to get a word in.

“Yes,” he began, his tone quiet but deliberate. “I fully accept your blunt observation of myself.”

Rook raised an eyebrow at him, still chewing, but didn’t interrupt.

“Why I did it?” Lucanis continued, his gaze dropping briefly to the table. “It’s… was easy to flirt with Neve. A distraction from what’s in my mind, who shares my body, and everything else—fighting Gods, dealing with the Blight…” He paused, his voice softening. “But, also, it means nothing. And when it means nothing, there’s no possibility of consequences.”

“Consequences?” she managed, still chewing, her words slightly muffled.

“Yes,” Lucanis replied, his voice steady but quieter now. “If I don’t say those things to you, it’s not because I don’t notice you, enjoy your company, or desire someone else. It’s quite the opposite.”

Rook froze mid-chew, her eyes widening slightly as she watched him, his gaze fixed firmly on her.

“But how would you know this?” he continued, his tone filled with a rare vulnerability. “I’ve never told you. And I have never reciprocated any of the affection you have so generously given me.”

“But you said consequences, and I’m still not following,” Rook said, finally finishing her cake.

Lucanis sighed, frustration flickering across his face. Maker, he wished he were better with words—like his cousin Illario. “Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I’m trying to say right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away before meeting her eyes again.

“I’m not good at this, Rook,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I struggle with you because… because you mean something to me. You’re not just a distraction. You’re something that has—” He hesitated, the next word slipping out before he could stop it. “...weight.”

He saw her gaze drop instantly to her coffee, her expression unreadable.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucanis’s stomach dropped. Why the fuck did you say that? Davrin had specifically told him not to mention the word weight.

“Yes, I’m aware I have ‘weight,’” she replied, her tone dry as she raised an eyebrow at him.

Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, gesturing to the plate. “Thank you for highlighting that right after watching me devour at least three of these cakes.”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a mock-serious expression. “And for the record, they were delicious, and I have zero regrets eating them.”

“What I meant is… you’re special to me,” Lucanis said, his voice quieter now, his dark eyes meeting hers. “To Spite, as well. And that’s dangerous to admit. It’s information that could be used against me—or you. And Maker knows Viago will not be pleased.”

He paused, frustration clear on his face. “I never flirted with you because… because I care for you. More than a friend.” His voice softened, the words weighted with sincerity. “Hopefully, I get to be more. But I’m the most foolish of men when it comes to matters of the heart. I’m not good at… any of this.”

Rook’s gaze shifted, taking in the café around her. The warm, romantic glow of the lights, the beautifully laid-out table, the intimacy of the setting—it all seemed so deliberate, so unlike the Lucanis she thought she knew.

Her eyes landed back on him, and she arched an eyebrow. “You’re not good at being romantic? Or apologies? Because, by the way, you still haven’t said sorry.”

“Despite my Antivan heritage, we aren’t all blessed with my cousin’s gift for romance,” Lucanis said with a wry smile. “But I’ll try—for you.”

He stood, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape against the floor, and stepped around the table.

“And this,” he continued, his voice dropping to something softer, almost reverent, “is where I kneel at your feet and beg for your forgiveness.”

Before Rook could react, he sank to one knee before her, taking her hand gently in his. His eyes lifted to meet hers, his expression utterly sincere.

“I am sorry,” he began, his voice steady but weighted with emotion. “For any hurt I caused you. I am sorry for my misplaced charm. I am sorry for letting you think you are anything less than breathtaking to me.”

Her breath caught, the words hitting her like a wave.

“I am sorry you ever felt you were not enough,” he went on, his thumb brushing softly against her knuckles, “when you are—more than enough in every way a woman can be. I am sorry. Truly sorry.”

He paused, his voice softening even further as he added, “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I swear to you—you will never doubt my affection for you for as long as I breathe.”

Rook sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the man kneeling before her. She turned her hand slightly in his, lacing her fingers through his as she searched for the right words.

“How am I supposed to stay angry at you now?” she said finally, her voice soft but tinged with exasperation. “The cakes, the candlelight, and that—” she gestured toward him with her free hand—“what you just said… Maker’s breath, you’re impossible.”

Lucanis’s lips curved into a hesitant smile, hope flickering in his eyes.

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. “And… I forgive you,” she added, her voice steady now, but her cheeks flushed.

“But I swear,” Rook continued, her eyes narrowing slightly, “if you ever make me feel that way again, I’ll take a contract out on you. Better than that—” she leaned forward, her tone dropping for emphasis—“I’ll kill you myself.”

Lucanis tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he rose to his feet.

“I’d like to see you try,” he replied smoothly, settling back into his chair across from her, “Promise me there will be lots of struggling,” Lucanis added, his voice dropping into a playful drawl. “Rolling around, grabbing for each other’s daggers…” He leaned forward slightly, a wicked glint in his eyes. “And sweaty. It’ll be sweaty, right?”

Urrgghhhh. She hated it when he turned it back on her like that.

Rook crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure, but she could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. She wasn’t nearly as good as he was at making death threats sound… sultry.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, grabbing her coffee and taking a long sip to avoid saying anything else that might give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d flustered her.

“Are you flirting with me, Dellamorte?” Rook asked, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I thought you didn’t do that.”

Lucanis leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “First time for everything, de Riva,” he replied smoothly. “You could say I’m making up for lost time. Curious are we?”

“I’m not sure if I should say yes or no,” Rook admitted, a nervous smile playing at her lips.

Lucanis leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady, his voice soft but teasing. “Say yes. Take a risk. See what happens.”

He could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between protecting her heart and giving in to her curiosity.

“Yes,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady.

Lucanis half-smiled, standing as he offered his hand. She took it, and together they walked to the balcony overlooking the canal. The soft light reflected off the water below, casting shimmering patterns onto the stone railing.

He leaned against the cool stone, his hand still firmly holding hers.

“So… I said yes, and now we’re looking at…” Rook began, her voice tinged with nervous humor.

“For the love of the Maker, Rook,” Lucanis interrupted, turning to face her fully. “Shut up and let me kiss you. Just stop… talking.”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his mouth brushing against hers in a soft, deliberate kiss. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, and Rook melted into him, her heart racing.

He was a good kisser.

Cliché as it was, she slowed time around them with an enchantment, savoring the moment as the rest of the world blurred into nothing.

Lucanis smiled against her lips, not breaking the kiss, his voice low and warm. “I know what you’re doing, Rook,” he murmured, his lips still grazing hers.

But she didn’t care.

[dreamdragonkadia]

A/N: I honestly didn’t have a clear plan when I started writing this, but I just really wanted to give Davrin some love and see where it would go. Elf Rook

The recent mission had wrapped up with little fanfare. There were no flirtatious glances across the dinner table, no heated, whispered invitations lurking behind closed doors. And yet, somehow, you’d still ended up here: in his room, in his bed, cradled in his arms. Davrin wasn’t about to complain, not when you were looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered. It was the gaze of a hunter satisfied with their quarry. Your nails traced the intricate lines of his Vallaslin, almost reverently, as his thumb drew soft circles into your hip.

“You know,” you murmured, cupping his cheek with a tenderness that caught him off guard. “I don’t really remember my clan.” Davrin’s brow furrowed slightly. Besides the Antivan Crows, you never spoke about your past, never hinted at the life you’d left behind. He’d come to believe it was a locked door you had no intention of opening. But now, your fingers drifted from his markings to your own, a soft hum escaping your lips as if lost in memories he couldn’t reach.

He tilted his head, searching your eyes. “You’ve never mentioned them before.”

A faint, rueful smile curled at your lips. “There wasn’t much to say. It was a lifetime ago.” Your thumb traced along his jawline, almost as if grounding yourself in the present. “Sometimes I wonder if I made them up—if I was ever really part of them at all. But then I see your Vallaslin, see my Vallaslin and it feels like... like something I’ve forgotten.”

Davrin’s grip on your hip tightened slightly, pulling you closer as if he could shield you from whatever ghosts haunted your memories. “You belong here,” he said softly, voice tinged with a rare, gentle insistence. “With me.”

Your eyes softened, and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That’s the first thing I’ve been certain of in a long time.”

The room fell into a silence, the only sound being Assan ruffling his feathers from where he laid behind the wall. Your fingers continued their path along his Vallaslin, and he let himself relax into the sensation, eyes fluttering closed. It felt like a promise, one he wasn’t sure he deserved but was willing to fight for anyway.

“Tell me,” you said after a moment, voice hushed as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile peace. “What do your markings mean?”

His eyes opened, locking onto yours. “Strength,” he whispered, voice rough around the edges. “The kind you only find when you have something worth fighting for.”

You smiled, and it felt like the first ray of sunlight after a long winter’s night. “Good,” you replied, curling closer into his chest. “I need you to remember that.”

[thewardenisonthecase]

Honey and Lavender

Lucanis Dellamorte x Grey Warden!Rook

Read on AO3

Summary: Rook has never been in a relationship before. Lucanis is bad at communicating his feelings. One simple act of making dessert has strange consequences.

A/N: This was inspired by a post I saw and that scene that didn't make it into the game.

word count: 2,814

The job was not yet done. 

Caterina was still being held captive and Ilario still lived. There was still much to be done, but a small weight had just recently been pulled off his back. 

Him and Dawn. Together. 

Lucanis had contemplated how he would do it - how he’d show her how much he cared. He had never had a relationship before, his previous attempts failing spectacularly. He spent a few nights thinking about his options. Knives were out of the question, and he didn’t think he could pull off those grande declarations of love that often happened in the romance novels he read. 

No, Lucanis had to play to his strengths, and if there was one thing he knew how to do well - besides killing - was cooking. 

So he got to work, making cioccolata calda just for her. He smiled, fondly remembering that night at Café Pietra. His cousin had just left and he decided to inquire about her sweet tooth. 

“I only discovered it once I left the Circle.” She had explained in between drinking. “We weren’t really allowed this sort of food in the Gallows, but once I was out, I got to indulge in all sorts of sweets Thedas had to offer.” She shook her head and chuckled. “It only got worse after I became a Warden. I swear, the taint makes your stomach grow in size with how hungry I felt.” 

Lucanis also remembered another part of their conversation, one that had left him surprised. 

“Like a kiss goodbye, huh? And how would a first kiss be?” She asked. 

“Honey and lavender cream. Sweet, intriguing…and you? How would you describe it?” 

He noticed how Dawn’s cheeks had turned red in embarrassment, as she looked down. “I, uhm, wouldn’t be able to tell.” She sighed. “I can’t describe something I’ve never had.” 

“Oh. I see.” 

“There’s just never been…well.” She said, hesitating. 

Lucanis did his best to hide his shock. He’d thought a woman like her would have had more experience in this department than him. But it seemed the two had that in common. 

“In matters of the heart, one must be discerning.”  

Dawn looked at him, and he swore he saw a small glint in her eyes. “When it’s right, you know.” 

And now, he did know. 

. 

Lucanis confused Dawn in a way no man had before. 

First, he’d completely ignore her feeble attempts at flirting, only for then to almost kiss her before walking away, never addressing what happened. 

He pulled away and now she had known why, after visiting his mental prison in the Fade, the one he had made for himself. She thought that after all that, he would put even more space in between them as he sorted himself out, but instead, Lucanis had made dessert just for her. 

What did it all mean? 

The dinner alone and food all for herself had been good. They had talked, only a little, but it had warmed her heart. She knew he had feelings for him, and the gesture only solidified that but she was still confused. 

Dawn asked Davrin, her closest friend, what he thought of it. He put it in the simplest terms. 

“It means he likes you.” 

That had been followed by a long rant about the dangers of ‘involving yourself with an Antivan Crow’ but it only brought a frown to her face. 

If he liked her, why didn’t he say so?

Of course, the dessert had been great, but Dawn never had been in a relationship. Could she even call it that? Sure, she liked him and he liked her, but was that enough to say they were together? 

They hadn’t actually talked about that, and she felt too embarrassed to bring it up, so things continued as they used to. 

Bad attempts at flirting and stolen glances. But there had been new development. There were times where she’d turn around and find him looking at her, a stupid grin on his face. 

Where before he’d turn away, once he was caught, now he’d smile. Actually smile at her. 

Maker, what was happening. 

. 

It all came to a head because of Davrin. 

It was late in the afternoon, and the warden elf had decided to do some sparring with Lucanis. His reasoning had been “If you plan on killing a god, you have better be ready for it.” 

The crow smirked. “So you want me to pretend you’re Ghilna’ain and attempt to kill you?” 

“Don’t even think about it, Lucanis.” Davrin said, getting into a fighting stance. 

They began to throw a few punches, none that really hit as both men kept dodging. They went on like that for a couple minutes, until things began to get heated. 

“Be careful, you two.” Rook said, as she approached the two men.

“Rook!” Lucanis said through gritted teeth, as he tried to pry Davrin off of him. “What…are…you doing here?” 

“Davrin asked me to watch and make sure you wouldn’t try something when his guard was down.” 

“If anyone’s trying anything, it’s him.” Finally, he managed to shove the Warden away. “I say we’re done for today.” 

“What? Scared to embarrass yourself in front of your girlfriend?” Davrin had taunted, a smirk on his face. He had meant it to be playful, unaware of what would happen next. 

Rook made a sound that was a mixture of a nervous cough and a laugh. “Girlfriend?” 

“Why, yes? Aren’t you two a thing now, after all that dessert.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” Lucanis and Rook had said, at the same time. She looked at him confused. “No, we aren’t…right, Lucanis?”

“I…I thought we were.”

She crossed her arms, and Davrin took a step back. “But then why didn’t you say anything.” 

Lucanis frowned, matching her confusion. “But I did. The dessert…” 

“I thought that was just your way of saying thank you. I didn’t think you were asking me to be with you.” She said, a little sharper than she intended. 

Lucanis looked at her with saddened eyes. “Rook…” 

“I-” She began to say but stopped herself. She rubbed her forehead and sighed heavily, before turning around and saying. “Sorry, I-I have to go.” 

They watched as she ran inside the Lighthouse. Lucanis would have followed but Davrin grabbed his bicep. “Give her a minute, before you screw things up more.”

“But I-” 

“Look, I don’t know what you two have going on, and Rook’s never been in a relationship before, so if I discover you did something to hurt her feelings-”

“You don’t have to finish.” Lucanis said, freeing his arm. There’s nothing Davrin could threaten to do to him that would come close to what he’d to himself. 

He sighed as he ran inside, going to Rook’s room. He needed to clear things up. If she didn’t think they were together, did that mean he had made a fool of himself, thinking she’d ever reciprocate his feelings? Maybe he had been right in not opening his heart, in pulling away and- 

No. He shook his head. He mustn't think of that. Not after everything in the Fade. What he needed was to find Rook. 

But when he entered her room, she wasn’t there. 

“Dawn?” He called, but no one answered. He quickly ran to the infirmary, and also found the place empty, besides Varric’s stuff that they left there. 

When he left, he stumbled upon Bellara. 

“Oh, hey Lucanis.” 

“Bellara, have you seen Rook?” 

“I haven’t spoken to her directly today but…a few minutes ago I did see her running to the Eluvian. She didn’t tell me where she was going though.” 

“Mierda.” He whispered. “Thank you, Bellara.”

She frowned. “Is everything alright? You look troubled.” She gasped. “Oh no, is Rook in trouble?” 

He shook his head. “No, no. If anyone’s in trouble, it’s me.” Bellara looked at him, confused but he only said “I have to go.” before running to the eluvian as well. 

“Be careful!” He heard Bellara shouting as he ran downstairs. 

He stared at the Eluvian and began thinking on where Rook could have run to. 

Lucanis ruled a few of them out. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t go to Minrathous or the Necropolis if she was distressed. He considered Rivain, but remembered how much she complained about the endless sand there. 

And considering what had just happened, he doubted she’d go to Treviso. Arlathan was a possibility but he believed he had better chances in the Anderfels, as her friends were there. 

With a destination in mind, he stepped through the eluvian, journeying through the Crossroads until he reached the Hossberg Wetlands. 

. 

“Mila, have you seen Rook?” Lucanis asked the girl, as he approached the Wardens. 

“She was talking to Antoine and Evka a few minutes ago..” Mila pointed to where the couple stood. “She seemed upset.” 

“Mierda.” He whispered, hoping the child didn’t listen. “Thank you, Mila.” 

“Of course!”

He approached the two Wardens. 

“Lucanis. What are you doing here?” Evka asked. 

“I’m looking for Rook. Mila told me she had just passed through here?” 

“Yes, we were talking to her.” Antoine said, not paying much attention to the crow as he worked on some strange device. “She was seeking advice on-”

He was cut off by Evka loudly clearing her throat. The two shared a look, silently communicating with each other before Evka turned to Lucanis. “Rook was…upset. Do you know anything about it?” 

“I…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “May have something to do with it.” 

Evka’s knuckled tightening around her hammer was probably not a good sign. Antoine placed a hand on her shoulder. “For your sake, I hope you figure it out quickly.” 

“Thank you. Did she-”

“She didn’t say where she was going, but she did use the eluvian.” Evka cut him off. 

Lucanis nodded and headed back there. 

. 

In Arlathan, he also found no trace of Rook. Even places he had ruled out before, the Necropolis and Rivain, he ended up visiting just to be sure but found nothing. 

Lucanis was growing worried. What if something had happened to Rook? What if one of the evanuris agents had gotten to her? If she had been killed? 

What if he never found her and told her everything he felt?

Lucanis took a deep breath. He had to remember that Rook was a capable woman, she could fend for herself and she had the advantage of being a warden - neither the blight nor darkspawn could surprise her. 

The sun was beginning to set and he decided he’d try one more place before returning to the Lighthouse. There were only two places he hadn’t been to yet: Minrathous and Treviso. 

He had ruled out his home, but it’d make more sense for her to be there. At the very least, the city wasn’t destroyed due to her choices and there was the chocolate she liked. 

With a deep breath, he made his way to Treviso. 

. 

It was nighttime when he arrived, the moons shining bright in the sky. He could smell in the air that it would rain soon. 

He closed his eyes as he considered where he would go. As he took another deep breath, gathering his thoughts, Spite spoke. 

“Smells like...earth. Lavender. Rook was here.” The demon said. 

“Can you find her?” Lucanis asked. 

“Find Rook. Can do.” 

. 

Dawn hugged her knees, as she looked to the sky. It had begun to rain, the water soaking her clothes and hair but she did not care. 

She never had this many chances to just stop and look at the moons. Not in the Gallows and most certainly not with the Wardens. She had finished eating the last of the sweets she had bought, but there was an emptiness in her not even sweets could help with. 

Maker, what had she done? Running away like that. For all the time she spent telling Lucanis he needed to communicate his thoughts, she went and did the exact opposite. 

Grand leader she was. 

She was driven out of her thoughts by the sound of steps near her. Turning her head, she saw Lucanis, hands on his hips, also wet from the rain, breathing heavily. 

“Do you have any idea…how much time I spent today looking for you?” He said. 

“Lucanis, I- how did you find me?” 

Skeletal purple wings sprouted from his back as he said “I had a bit of help.” He walked towards her as she stood up. “Dawn, I’m…I’m sorry.”

She frowned. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m-”

“No. Please, I have to say this.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not being clear in my intentions. I haven’t done…this before. I was never the charming one and after the Ossuary…you’ve seen it yourself. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.” Lucanis took a step forward. “I’m bad with words, so I did what I thought was best, what I thought would show…” He stopped himself and sighed. “I told you it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Stop.” She said, getting closer to him and holding his gloved hands. “It was more than enough.” Dawn shook her head. “I’m not used to people liking me. I’m not used to being cared for. So when you made dessert just for me, I got scared. I didn’t know if it meant more, and I was scared of asking and ruining whatever we had. And then Davrin said all these things and I’m…” She looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry too. I should have told you how I felt, I shouldn’t have ran away.” 

“And what is is that you feel?” 

“That you’re the right one.” She put it simply. 

For a moment, the two stayed like that: standing on the rooftops of an abandoned building, while it rained and they held hands, unsure of what to say. 

Dawn saw Lucanis look to the side, his lips thin, and she realized Spite was talking to him. Then he closed his eyes. 

“This is what I should have said before.” Lucanis looked at her, with those sad eyes of his, and with a deep breath, he began. “I want you, Dawn. I cherish the moments we’ve had more than you could ever imagine, and you’re in my mind more than I’d like to admit. You’re my sky, the dawn that comes after a long night of terror and I am scared of losing you, but I can’t bear the thought of us being apart. I don’t know where this journey will lead us, but I’ll go wherever you tell me, as long as you’ll have me.” 

She stared at him, overwhelmed with emotions. She didn’t know what to say, because nothing would compare to what he had said. And then she remembered her friend's words earlier that day. 

“Sometimes, you just have to go for it.” Evka said. “Like killing an ogre. You don’t think, you just..do it.” 

“Embrace the moment.” Antoine added. “We wardens aren’t afforded many of them, so you must make the most out of the ones you’ll be granted.”

Just do it, she thought to herself. 

And so, Dawn closed her eyes and leaned forward, kissing Lucanis. 

. 

Of all things that day, Lucanis did not expect to be kissed, but it was a pleasant surprise.

Much more than just pleasant, actually. 

The kiss itself was quick, ending too soon. Her lips were softer than he had imagined and they tasted of chocolate and caramel. 

When they pulled back, her pupils were blown wide and redness spread across her face. Her hair, which was usually kept in a ponytail, was down and stuck to her forehead and neck. 

For a moment, he felt breathless. She was beautiful. 

“Sorry, I-I should have asked.” She whispered. 

He shook his head, as he swept the hair from her face.

“You have no idea how long I waited for this.” Lucanis whispered. “May I?” 

She nodded. He put his hands on her cheeks, cupping them, as he brought her face towards his, their lips meeting once again. 

It was a bit awkward at first, both of them suffering with inexperience, but after a few seconds, they figured it out, Dawn’s hands finding his waist. The kiss deepened, causing him to softly moan, and Lucanis felt Spite’s wings sprouting once again from his back.

After what felt like a lifetime, the two stopped, both breathless, eyes closed as their foreheads touched. 

“This was…wow.” She said. “I think you were right.” 

“About what?” 

“About the honey and lavender.” She smirked and he gave a small chuckle. 

Then, Lucanis whispered “So what does this mean for us?” 

“It means that whatever happens next, we do it together.”

He smiled. “I quite like the sound of that.”

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 10

[Rook joins Davrin & Lucanis drinking & swapping “worst job” stories. Davrin brings up that he told her the story of how he became a warden, but he doesn’t know how *she* became one. She tells them about how she was a tevinter slave rescued by the Hero of Ferelden herself, but as they drink and dive more into her childhood story, things get very serious very fast…]

CW/TW: discussion of slavery, vague implication of sexual assault, alcohol use, brief language of a sexual nature, mild language

——————————————————————————

“So you were a slave for a tevinter magister, with no mom, hiding that you had *magic*… for four years,” Davrin recapped. “How did you even survive?”

“I was young, so really all they wanted me to do was pour wine or do laundry or whatever. When I *did* get myself into trouble, I was small, and quick. When I got a little older, the older girls looked out for me. I didn’t have much trouble — they rarely were looking for ‘the ugly one’ anyway.”

Lucanis made a sound like choking on his drink. “They called YOU ‘the ugly one?’”

Naimeryn laughed. “With this forehead, this nose, and my natural hair color?”

Davryn’s tone was dark and he wore a scowl as he replied, “it probably saved you.”

The kitchen lapsed into uncomfortable silence, and belatedly she realized it was because of her. The old guilt she hadn’t been able to shake even after all these years clawed it’s way up from the pit of her stomach to squeeze into her rib cage. Suddenly all too aware of how drunk she’d let herself get, she quickly put her cup down.

“I — I’m sorry. I always do this,” she forced a laugh she hoped sounded nonchalant. “I have too much and kill the mood.”

“No, Rook, I didn’t mean - “ Davrin started.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll, um. I should… I’m gonna go.”

Naimeryn stood — too quickly. The room spun and she grabbed the back of her chair — or thought she had. She shook her head in an attempt to clear in, but it was Lucanis’s arm in her grasp, not the chair, and his other hand was pressed to the small of her back. His hand was so warm. She fought the urge to lean into him. She didn’t need saving. She was an adult, not a child. She couldn’t be a burden.

“Ah, I’m an idiot,” she giggled. “Anyone could drink me under the table, I swear. I’m alright.”

She patted Lucanis’s forearm lightly and rightened herself. Davrin was on his feet too. She wished the floor were an eluvian that would suck her in and deposit her unceremoniously on her couch in the meditation chamber.

“I’ll be all right,” she repeated, turning towards the door. “It’s only across the courtyard.”

“Right, and if you miss a stair like you did in Arlathan today you’ll fall forever,” Davrin snorted. She felt her face get hot.

“That was a one time thing,” she snapped, even though they all knew it wasn’t true. He’d already seen how often she had such accidents anyway. The ugly one. The clumsy one. The awkward one.

“Just… let me walk you,” Lucanis said, opening the door so it was clear he wasn’t asking. “It is no trouble, truly.”

“Okay,” Naimeryn mumbled.

“Don’t do anything crazy, kids,” Davrin’s tone was more warning than joke.

“There is no need for concern,” Lucanis said sharply, ushering her gently out the door and shutting it behind them.

“Can’t even count on cold air,” Naimeryn grumbled.

“Cold air?”

“Yeah, when you’re drunk, sometimes, um. Sometimes cold air helps. But the air here, the Fade. It’s the same everywhere.”

“Ah.”

Naimeryn couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She watched her unsteady steps instead. A grown woman. Supposed to be in charge. Drunk. Bringing down the mood instead of boosting morale. What a —

“Rook.”

A warm hand, sliding into hers. Fingers, tentatively interlacing. Past her pounding heart, she tried to be sly, smirking sideways up at him.

“Afraid I’ll wander off the edge?”

His allowed a small, gentle smile. “No.”

Her face caught fire anew. “I, uh… oh. Okay.” She clutched his hand, almost to reassure herself it was really in her grasp. Her heart stuttered as he gave a return squeeze.

“Come on.”

She let him lead her down the stairs and past Caretaker’s workshop. His palm was rough, fingers calloused. Like hers. He opened the door for her again, but suddenly she felt rooted to the spot.

“I’m sorry, Lucanis,” she whispered.

“What for?”

“You shouldn’t have to do this. I’m.. a Warden. An *adult*.”

“I have heard it said,” he tugged gently at her hand, pulling her in to his chest, “those with the brightest light cannot keep any for themselves.”

“Oh..?” She asked, pressing her hand tentatively to him. Afraid he’d disappear, and she’d wake up on the couch, to this all having been another dream. She was always afraid it was all just a dream.

“It’s okay to cut yourself a little bit of the slack you give all of us,” he told her quietly, squeezing slightly before letting her go, and tugging at her hand again. A soft, disappointed sigh escaped her despite her resolve.

She didn’t remember walking past the library table, or up the stairs, but suddenly she heard Taash’s booming voice.

“Lucanis?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Rook celebrated a little too much. I’m just bringing her to bed.”

“To bed?!” Taash’s voice went up an octave. What were they so excited about?

“She’s drunk, Taash.”

“Bummer. I was kind of hoping you were finally gonna do it.”

“*Mierda.*”

“*Taash*!” Naimeryn all but screamed simultaneously, even as she felt herself swaying. Her face and ears burned.

“You like each other! You’re a thing! I don’t know why you’re still bein’ so weird about it.”

Naimeryn scrunched her shoulders and tugged at Lucanis. She didn’t want to be there anymore. Her head was starting to pound. She was embarrassed. She did *not* want to have this conversation.

“Yell of you need anything; g’night,” Taash called after them.

“Night,” Naimeryn all but whispered. Why was she such a mess?

“Too far,” Lucanis said quietly, tugging her back before she wandered right past the meditation chamber hallway. It felt as though the hallway was closing in on them, much more narrow than usual, and so long. Was it usually this long? Lucanis led her carefully by her waist, like he thought she’d break. Her foggy mind imagined his hand beginning to wander, but she forced the thought back into the depths of her subconscious. He’d made her dessert, and he appreciated things she did, and wanted to make her feel special, but… that didn’t mean… anything. Did it? Taash had said… “you’re a thing!” But what did that mean, exactly? He just wanted to give a nice gesture…

*“It’s better I stay here than risk losing you.”*

He’s said that, hadn’t he? And then he’d made her dessert. And they’d kissed… and now he was holding her hand. And they were a “thing.” And — he opened her door. She turned to thank him, and tripped backwards over her own foot. With a quick utterance of “mierda!” He leapt to action to catch her, grabbing the console table with his free hand to keep them both from hitting the floor. The toy griffon clattered to the stone, skittering across it unscathed. She covered her face with her hands.

“Rook.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Naimeryn, look at me.”

Reluctantly, she peeked at him through her fingers. He shook his head, ever so slightly.

“You do not need to apologize. For anything.”

He easily pulled them both back to their feet. She told herself not to stare as his bicep flexed and relaxed. Not to lick her lips. Not to let the breath catch in her throat. Not to think about where they were. Alone. They’d been alone in *his* room before, hadn’t they?

But that had been the wrong thought. Her mind was flooded with the sight of him, so close, his hand on the wall by her head, the feel of his shirt under her fingers. His lips so close, until he’d thought better of it. She swallowed thickly. Everyone always thought better of it.

But… he *hadn’t.* He *had* kissed her back. On purpose. In front of everyone.

Lucanis crossed to the basin and returned with a glass of water. He guided her to the couch and pressed it into her hand.

“Drink,” he told her, “Davrin will never let you live it down if you are hungover tomorrow.”

Naimeryn groaned, knowing he was right.

“He can be such a —“

“An ass?” Lucanis smirked.

“I was going to say a pain,” she sighed. “But I suppose.”

She sipped her water, then started tugging at her hair. Creators, her head hurt. She tried to wrestle the bands out of the ends. She just needed the braids out. Then she’d feel better.

“Let me,” Lucanis said softly. “You drink.”

Naimeryn tried to focus on her water as his fingers worked through her hair. He was perhaps a little clumsy — not much practice undoing braids, she assumed — but she felt as though her entire body were vibrating under the sensation. His fingertips grazing her scalp as he finished the first braid sent her into a dizzying tailspin of thoughts and feelings. The magical experiment she had made all those years ago began to hum. Crap. She had to get it together.

“I suppose I should go,” she heard him say.

Before she’d decided if she wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible or chance the disappointment of asking him to stay, he’d settled himself more comfortably onto the couch. Those hands were on her shoulders, threatening to burn through her body and soul, pulling her gently to lay back against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat pounding in her ears, feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath. It was so steady. So reassuring. Calming. She should be panicking, but she felt her own breath slow to match his. It wasn’t only his hands that were warm. His whole body radiated it.

Slowly, he began to undo her other braid. He pulled his fingers leisurely through her dark tresses, and in spite of herself, she felt her shoulders loosen, her body relax. Her already fuzzy mind drifted, her eyelids becoming much too heavy for her to possibly keep them open…

[cherrypikkins]

allow me to be insufferable for a second.

My midgame canon for my Rook x Lucanis is that Lucanis sees Seiren and Davrin hanging out, both Wardens, both caring for Assan, both going out on private outings in the Arlathan wilds, both going through the sort of struggles and dynamics known only to those of the order they both belong to. Sees them trade stories about life in Hossberg and Weisshaupt. Sees their camaraderie as they fight side-by-side against Blight and Darkspawn alike. Sees her smile and laugh and grin when Davrin makes a joke that only the two of them understand.

And he thinks, there's no way he can get in between that, no way he can compete, because he can't understand Seiren the way Davrin can and can't be what she needs. Because a Grey Warden has enough to worry about without a confused abomination like him to complicate things, right?

Except Davrin sees Seiren as more like a sister-in-arms, and is perfectly fine with her being with Lucanis if it means she can experience real happiness with someone having little to do with Blight and Darkspawn and her inevitable Calling. Because he knows that is what she really wants and has no problem nudging the two of them a bit closer together.

…with the caveat that if Lucanis ever breaks her heart, Davrin will personally hunt him down and feed him to the griffons.

[woundedsoul12]

Satinalia Morning - WoundedSoul - Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

Summary:

Davrin has never heard of Satinalia. When Neve and Lucanis reveal the holiday, the Warden knows he has to find the perfect present for his Rook. The gang helps out, and they spend the perfect Satinalia (Christmas) morning together

[lyriumrebel]

I have 2 days and no spare time to write something for mid winter celebrations...

Maybe it can happen on sunday

Meanwhile i have something decidedly non-wintry hopefully ready for Fluff Friday (only a week late but shh, I'm remembering how to write)

[thedissonantverses]

Oh hey I should do my own challenge huh?

Rook was sketching beneath a tree when she looked up to see Davrin with an armful of his figures, heading towards the kitchen. He wore the same expression he did when he was working on his book so she let it go. Then he came back for an armful of papers. Then another set of figures. Finally, her curiosity won out and she followed, finding him staring at the table with the carvings and papers carefully laid out along the table. Lucanis brought out a platter of snacks and Bellara entered with another armful of papers.

"Davrin I got the-hey Rook! I have the character sheets."

Davrin was staring so hard at the table he hadn't realized she was there. He looked up sheepishly and she tilted her head, picking up one of the carvings.

"This is Harding!" She grabbed the one next to it. "This is me! What is happening?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "A team building exercise?"

"Don't be shy Davrin. Tell her!" Bellara started placing down the sheets with columns and boxes.

Lucanis laughed as he headed back into the kitchen. "Yes Davrin. Tell her."

"It's a game. You fight monsters and...what are you doing?"

She'd grabbed the figure that looked like his and hers and stuck them side-by-side so it looked like they're holding hands. "Can our characters be together?"

"You want to play?"

"How could I not? You've clearly been working hard on this."

He chuckled lowly and reached for her, kissing her lightly. "Not too hard."

"He stayed up all night writing!" Lucanis shouted from the kitchen.

"He's been putting so much thought into....You know I forgot something in my room." Bellara demurred.

Rook turned to Davrin, looping her arms around his neck with a wide smile. "All night huh?"

He groaned and kissed her again.

Writing Challenge Wednesday:

Okay so me and @operative-arrow decided Davrin is the forever DM of the Veilguard. He’s definitely got a homebrew campaign with his own monsters from his book and making the figures for it.

In honor of that I wanna see the Veilguard crew playing dnd. Show me your Rooks, their love interests. Show me their friendships. I wanna see them arguing about the rules or making snacks or just generally them hanging out together. (It actually doesn’t have to be dnd themed I just want slice of life around the Lighthouse) As usual there’s no time limit, reblog, comment, link or dm me!

[bg3daydream]

Gingerwort truffle tea (Lucanis x Rook fanfiction)

Lucanis x Female Rook one-shot.

Summary: Lucanis can't help but feel jealous when Davrin takes Rook out for a picnic. He's not expecting Rook to come back high on an odd tea. Fluff and mutual pining but specially Lucanis, who's wrestling with his feelings and with Spite.

Lucanis pretended not to pay attention while Davrin and Rook got everything ready for their picnic in Arlathan. He’d learned about his plans when Davrin had come into the pantry to get some food for it, and Lucanis had been in a sour mood since then.

He had no reason or right to be upset and angry, but he couldn’t be logical about it. He was jealous, he knew it and he could admit it, but he also knew he had no right to feel that way. Rook wasn’t his partner. Sure, there’d been some flirting, he’d thought she might be interested in him, but they weren’t in a relationship.

And whose fault was that?

He’d cut short all of her attempts to get closer to him. Maybe he’d made her think he was not interested in her that way. Far from the truth, but it was for the best. He had too much going on and so did Rook, she had enough to deal with without adding the hazard that was Lucanis now. 

He had nothing to offer her, nothing but trouble, death and darkness.

He was an abomination and the shame of it burned bright. He had a demon inside him, that he couldn’t control, what if Spite took control of him when he was with Rook. The demon seemed to like Rook, oddly enough, to trust her even, or at least he was usually more at ease when she was around, but Lucanis didn’t want to risk it.

Spite was now far from calm, he too seemed upset at seeing Rook and Davrin. The shimmering anger of the demon was growing and growing to the point that Lucanis had to walk away, afraid that the Spite would take control over him.

“Rook. Is. Ours,” Spite yelled inside his head as he made his way back to the pantry, and Lucanis was glad to have walked away, in case Spite might have made him say something like that in front of Rook.

“She isn’t,” he replied to the upset demon.

And whose fault was that. 

That was his own voice and thought, not Spite’s. 

“She’s her own person and she can go out with whoever she wants, she has more friends.”

That wouldn’t change even if they were romantically involved, but still, Lucanis couldn’t shake the feeling that Davrin might think of the picnic as some sort of date, not a friendly hangout. 

Spite brisked at the thought…how could a demon be jealous? Maybe it wasn’t jealousy but something else, some odd demon ownership thing, or maybe the demon was just picking up on Lucanis’ feelings. Whatever it was, it was annoying and hard to control.

Lucanis set on making a big pot of coffee. The last thing he wanted was to deal with Spite’s upset emotions, on top of his own, with their barely controlled anger and stupid jealousy. At least he could try to drown Spite’s voice in his head and his own feelings with black coffee.

As time passed, Lucanis tried not to think about what Rook and Davrin might be doing on their perhaps-date. He drank coffee. Exercised and trained. Cleaned his gear. Drank more coffee.

He couldn’t even blame Davrin for setting up a date with Rook, if that’s what it was. She was brave, smart, courageous, kind… of course Davrin would want to date her. What was a wonder was why Rook’d seemed to be interested in Lucanis instead, but perhaps he’d ruined it.

He couldn’t blame Rook for maybe turning to Davrin now, for being interested in him. Lucanis had his differences and problems with him, but he could admit the warden was brave, charming, and attractive, like a damn romance novel character. No, he couldn’t blame Rook if she wanted Davrin instead.

His wings popped out, eyes flashing purple, at his and Spite’s combined and badly controlled jealousy. Lucanis rushed to make more coffee.

*

Later, Lucanis was pacing the hall of the Lighthouse's main building, a cup of black coffee in his hand, lying to himself saying he was not waiting to see if Davrin and Rook walked up from the Eluvian room.

Eventually, he heard their steps walking up the stairs, followed by Assan’s squeaks and Rook’s laughter. He usually loved that sound but it now sent a pang of dread to his belly. So, she’d enjoyed the maybe date…of course she had.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Davrin’s words turned the dread into angry jealousy. He had no right to be jealous and yet… Lucanis turned around to leave, trying to ignore the sight he caught of Davrin walking with his arm around a grinning Rook.

“Something. Is. Wrong,” Spite said in his head. “She smells…Funny.”

“Shut up.” Lucanis had no wish to hear how Rook smelt or if she might smell like Davrin.

“Hey, Lucanis, wait,” Davrin called after him when he opened the door, but Lucanis was decided to ignore him. “You know about poisons, right?” The odd question combined with Spite saying something was wrong made Lucanis stop and turn around to face them. “I might need you with Rook.”

Alarm bells began sounding in Lucanis’ mind, drowning even Spite’s agitation, as he rushed to them, looking at Rook. She was staring intently at Assan, before turning to grin at Lucanis with bright eyes…eyes too bright. She seemed unharmed, but also, Spite was right, something was off with her.

“She was poisoned?!” 

“I don’t think so?” Rook answered and…yes, something was off.

“She was not.” Davrin alternated between looking at Rook and Lucanis. “But I made gingerwort truffle tea with Emmrich’s recipe and I think it didn't sit well with Rook.”

Rook herself just booped Assan and giggled.

“You drugged her with mushroom tea?!” Lucanis snapped. He knew his reaction was ungranted, he knew Davrin would never do that, yet he couldn’t help it.

“I didn’t.” Davrin rolled his eyes, unimpressed by his reaction and his purple flashing eyes. “It’s just tea, an old recipe. Emmrich said it might have some magical properties…but I think Rook’s just high.” 

Davring had the gall to chuckle as he looked at Rook, and Lucanis felt more aggravated by it.

“I’m not high!” Rook protested. “I just can understand Assan’s language now, I don’t know why you can’t, you had the tea too.”

Davrin chuckled again while Lucanis looked at Rook, trying to wrap his head around what was going on, while trying to ignore and turn down Spite’s onslaught of questions regarding Rook, the tea, and if Lucanis could drink it too.

“Yeah? What’s Assan saying now?” Davrin asked.

“Nothing, but you just wait. Assan. Assan.” Rook called his name until Assan squawked and then she gasped. “See!” 

Davrin snorted and Lucanis glared at him, but at least Rook didn’t seem hurt or in danger.

“She’s high, not poisoned. Your fault, by the way,” Lucanis accused him. “What do you want of me?”

“I don’t know, some kind of crow remedy?” Davrin shrugged at Lucanis glaring. “I think she just needs to sleep it off.”

“Possibly,” Lucanis replied icily.

“Hear that, Rook, the poisoner crow agrees,” Davrin said as he turned to Rook, and Lucans tried to control his and Spite’s wish to stab him. Poison wasn’t even his specialty. Stabbing, though… “Why don’t you go get a nap?”

“Can I take Assan?” Rook answered.

“Sure, if he wants to.”

“Assan, come on!”

Rook walked upstairs and to her room, slightly uncoordinated, with Assan at her heels.

“You got her high,” Lucanis huffed when the door of Rook’s room closed.

“I didn’t plan to.” Davrin rolled his eyes. “It was just gingerwort tea, it’s safe, but Rook seems to be sensitive to it.”

“Who would even want to drink tea,” Lucanis retorted. He knew he was being silly yet he couldn’t help it.

“Me. And Rook. She likes tea, she told me so when we were drinking it,” Davrin said. “But she has mostly coffee because that’s what you make all the time.”

“Oh…”

So, Rook liked tea and he didn’t know it. He’d prided himself on knowing Rook’s favorite drink. He’d thought she enjoyed coffee too. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe she’d just been drinking it for his sake…

“Man, stop with the puppy eyes, it’s just coffee, you’re too attached to it.” Davrin laughed and Lucanis’ allegedly puppy-eyes turned purple and murderous as he glared at him, but Davrin seemed unimpressed. “Rook likes coffee too. Especially if you make it, she says it’s better then.”

“Rook…told you that?” Lucanis asked quietly, looking down.

“Yeah. She can’t shut up about you for more than an hour.” Davrin chuckled, but Lucanis thought he’d sounded just ever so slightly annoyed. 

Lucanis couldn’t blame him. If he planned a date with Rook and she would spend it talking about Davrin, he knew he’d be annoyed. Still, he couldn’t help how pleased he felt at Davrin’s words. When he looked at Davrin, though, he was smirking.

“I think it’s bullshit, though, I don’t think your coffee is anything special,” Davrin teased.

“Oh? Have Neve’s coffee and then come tell me,” Lucanis joked back.

“No, thanks.” Davrin chuckled. “I’m going to tell Emmrich about the tea, just in case.”

Lucanis nodded. “I’ll check on Rook.”

*

Lucanis walked into Rook’s room, carrying a tall glass of water, and he was greeted by the big, odd aquarium. It made him feel uneasy, reminded him of the Ossuary, and he tried to ignore it, looking at the couch. Rook sat down there, holding Assan’s head gently as she looked intently into the griffon’s eyes.

“Rook, are you alright?”

“I wish he said something besides worms,” Rook sighed longingly, letting go of Assan’s head.

“Here, drink this.” Lucanis handed her the glass of water.

“Not coffee?” Rook asked, and Lucanis felt a pleasant warmth as he remembered Davrin saying Rook liked the coffee more if Lucanis made it.

“Later. Now drink that.”

Rook nodded, drinking the water.

“The tea made me understand Assan…do you think it made me understand Manfred and Spite too?!” Rook looked at him wide-eyed and if Lucanis hadn’t been as worried as he was, he’d have snorted. She really was high, more than he’d thought at first.

“Rook. You already understand Spite,” he told her calmly. “You have spoken with him.”

“Oh…right…I can understand him.” Rook nodded. “Right, Spite?” 

Before Lucanis knew what was happening, Rook had reached to hold his head like she’d been doing with Assan, looking into his eyes, and Lucanis felt his cheeks burning. He tried controlling how his heart picked up, the odd twirling in his belly, a wave of feelings that allowed Spite to wrest control over him.

“Lucanis. Never. Lets me. Speak!”

“Lucanis…that’s not very nice,” Rook chastised and Lucanis huffed, trying to push Spite back. “Let him speak sometimes.”

“I let him speak enough.”

“You. Don’t!” Spite’s took control again, out of…spite, probably. “Rook. Smells like…Assan.”

“See, this is what happens when he speaks,” Lucanis said, mortified, but Rook seemed amused.

She was still holding his head, her hands gentle on his warm cheeks, and she looked at him intently. Lucanis swallowed hard, feeling his mouth going dry at the way she was looking at him, at how close she was.

You. Want that. Again. Spite’s annoyed voice said in his head. Lucanis didn’t need to ask what he was talking about, he knew what he was feeling, not for the first time or the second…

He wanted to kiss Rook. And she was so close, he’d barely need to lean in to kiss her…he wanted to. But she was high, it wasn’t right, not to mention the demon kicking in his head, Rook didn’t need that burden…

“Lucanis…” Rook called his name quietly.

“Yes?” He could barely whisper it.

“What if Spite possessed Manfred?”

Lucanis blinked at Rook, too stunned to talk for a second. “What?”

“Would they take turns controlling the skeleton?”

Spite took control of Lucanis to speak before he could. “Curiosity. Has. Hands! I want. That!”

“You deserve hands!” Rook agreed, letting go of Lucanis’s head…she really was way higher than either he or Davrin had thought.

“He doesn’t,” Lucanis said, trying to wrestle down Spite. “Don’t encourage him, Rook.” She just giggled. “We have enough hands already.” And he had enough with Spite trying to control his.

“Then you wouldn’t have to share…I’m trying to be helpful for both of you,” Rook sighed dramatically.

“I know,” Lucanis conceded. He couldn’t help half a smile at her. “I let him stab enemies with my hands sometimes.” Not. Enough. Spite complained in his head but Lucanis ignored him. “Why don’t you take a nap? Come on, now that you still have time.”

“Alright…” Rook agreed and Lucanis was glad he didn’t have to try to convince her. “I’m not tired but I have a headache,” she sighed as she lay down on the couch and Lucanis had to fight the urge to caress her hair. “Assan, come.”

Rook patted the couch and grinned when Assan jumped onto it, and, at Rook’s grabby hands, the griffon lay down almost on top of her, curling up with Rook. “Oof, you’re heavy for a baby,” Rook said as she wiggled, but despite her words, she held Assan to her, looking quite happy to snuggle with him.

Another half-smile tugged at Lucanis mouth as he looked at them. The sight stirred some feelings, warmth, fondness…longing?

You. Want. That? Spite’s voice asked in his head, sounding puzzled and confused. Like. Assan?

“Shut up,” Lucanis muttered.

Did he want that? To lie down there with Rook like Assan, in her arms? Of course. But he didn’t want Spite catching on it, asking about it, or making his wishes and thoughts worse.

“What?” Rook asked, already sounding drowsy.

“Nothing. Get some sleep, Rook.”

Lucanis walked away before his and Spite’s combined thoughts could get out of hand.

*

A couple of hours later, Lucanis was in the pantry when he heard someone fumbling in the kitchen, and he walked out to find Rook there, holding a piece of hard cheese. He’d gotten that one for grating it but she seemed about to eat it just like that.

“Hey,” Rook greeted, seeming a bit awkward. “I was hungry but I didn’t feel like cooking.”

“I’ll cook you something,” Lucanis offered, heading to the kitchen space.

“You don’t have to…”

“I don’t mind.” Lucanis shrugged. He liked to cook and he liked it even more if it was for Rook.

“It’s fine, I think there are leftovers from the picnic.” Rook nodded towards a basket. “We barely got to eat before I…” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry you saw me like that before.”

“It’s okay, Rook,” Lucanis told her softly, trying to be comforting.

“I mean, I’m sorry for myself, it’s embarrassing to know that both you and Davrin saw me like that…” She shook her head, seeming mortified. “At least nobody else did.”

“It wasn’t your fault, it was the tea,” Lucanis reassured her, grimacing at the thought of the drink. It was Davrin’s fault for feeding it to her, but he didn’t say it aloud, he didn’t think Rook’d agree.

“A tea that also Davrin and Emmrich had and nothing happened to them,” Rook remarked and Lucanis tried to ignore Spite’s voice asking him repeatedly to try the tea himself and see what happened.

“It’s not your fault that you’re sensitive to it,” Lucanis tried to reason, he didn’t like to see Rook chastising herself like that.

Rook just shrugged with a non-committal humm and Lucanis watched as she took a sandwich from the picnic basket. He decided he’d cook something anyway, he didn’t trust Davrin’s cooking. Frittata with the grating cheese that Rook’d been about to eat.

As he began to get everything ready, it seemed Rook was going to say something, maybe to tell him again that he didn’t have to, but she didn’t, she just smiled softly and looked at him cooking in silence for a little bit.

“That smells so good,” she said as the frittata cooked and Lucanis couldn’t help how pleased it made him feel. It was a simple dish, truly, only eggs, cheese, and some vegetables mixed together, but he thought it was good nonetheless.

When the frittata was finished, Lucanis served it on a plate and handed it to Rook along with a glass of water. With a thanks, Rook took it and instead of going to the dining table, she sat down on the sofa around the small coffee table.

Rook looked at him as if wondering if he’d join her, and so Lucanis poured himself a cup of coffee and went to sit with her, not next to her on the couch but on the armchair near it. He noticed Rook eyeing his coffee while she sipped her water.

“I can make you a tea,” Lucanis offered, even if his nose scrunched in disgust at the thought of such a beverage, and he wasn’t even sure he could brew it properly, but Davrin had said Rook liked tea so at least he could try.

“I…I think I’ve had enough tea for a while…” Rook grimaced. “Besides, I love your coffee, it’s really good.”

A warm, pleased feeling spread through Lucanis at that, while a smile tugged at his lips. Davrin’d already told him Rook enjoyed his coffee more, but it was not the same than hearing her saying that she loved it.

Rook cut into the still steaming frittata and brought a piece to her mouth, closing her eyes with a delighted hmm, making something stir in Lucanis belly at it. “This is so good, really.”  That warm, pleasant feeling grew even more.

Rook didn’t say anything else, just enjoyed the frittata, and Lucanis watched her enjoying the food in silence. Lucanis had rarely cooked for anyone besides himself, and he liked cooking for his friends at the Lighthouse and having them enjoy the food, but when it was Rook, it felt even better.

Once Rook finished her frittata, Lucanis already had a cup of coffee ready for her.

“What would we do without you, Lucanis, you spoil us,” she half-teased, smiling as he nursed the cup in her hands.

“I saw how you all ate before hiring me,” Lucanis tried to joke, trying to control the wave of feelings as Rook kept complimenting him. “You needed a cook, not an assassin.”

“And we were so lucky we got both,” Rook chuckled.

She lifted her legs onto the couch and leaned on the armrest closer to Lucanis, and he fought the impulse urging him to lean closer too, to touch her, maybe stroke her hair. For a moment, they both sipped their coffee in silence.

“I think maybe I should get ready another picnic with Davrin, one in which I don’t get…indispose…” Rook commented after a little while.

Lucanis’ warm, content and pleasant feelings were gone, replaced by hot jealousy at hearing Rook speaking about arranging a date with Davrin. He grimaced as he tried to control Spite’s onslaught of upset feelings as the demon caught Lucanis’ own emotions and what seemed to also be his own kind of feelings regarding Rook. 

“Rook, I told you, it’s not your fault you’re sensitive to the tea…” Lucanis tried to keep his voice calm and even when he spoke. “It’s Davrin’s fault for bringing an unchecked recipe to a date,” he scoffed.

Rook looked at him wide-eyed. “A date? Do you think Davrin thought of that as a date?”

“I…don’t know…” Had he assumed things? He’d been pretty sure Davrin wanted a date with Rook. He tried to hide how upset he was at the idea “I thought so…”

“Oh…” Rook sighed, seeming worried. “Oh, I hope not…I just thought we were going to hang out in the forest, decompress, play with Assan…not a date, date.”

Lucanis didn’t know what to think of Rook’s words, there were too many emotions shimmering inside him, both his and Spite’s, and luckily Rook just kept talking without expecting him to say anything else.

“I mean, Davrin’s great and I really like him,” she began and Lucanis had to wrestle Spite down when he tried to take control of him. “Everyone’d be lucky to date him, but…turns out I don’t want to…”

Lucanis knew he shouldn’t smile at those words, but he couldn’t help how pleased he felt. What mattered if Rook didn’t want to date Davrin, though? It wasn’t like Lucanis could date her…he wanted to, he’d not lie to himself saying he didn’t, but he knew what a bad idea it was, how unfair it’d be for Rook, to get dragged into his mess, tangled with someone who could barely offer anything but death and trouble.

“It’d have been a nice date, though, a picnic in the beautiful woods,” Rook kept going, as if Lucanis didn’t have enough thoughts and feelings fighting inside him already. “But I think my perfect date would be different, I think maybe going to someone’s favorite café in his beautiful city.”

Rook wasn’t looking at him as she spoke, her eyes were on her coffee mug, and Lucanis was glad for it because, even though he tried to keep his expression neutral, he wasn’t sure he was succeeding. His heart had picked up his pace and some twirls were dancing in his belly.

He knew Rook was talking about when he’d taken her to Café Pietra. It’d been nice, even if it’d been for crow business, Lucanis had enjoyed being able to go back to his favorite café, and he’d been pleased to take Rook with him. It hadn’t been a date, yet he’d caught himself wishing it’d been, wondering about perhaps having a real one there, with Rook.

He’d tried to stop those thoughts and wishes but there he was anyway, they had just grown stronger as he spent more time with Rook.

“But I know that wouldn’t be everyone’s kind of date…” Rook said at his silence, moving back from the armrest and sitting straighter, perhaps taking his silence for rejection.

Lucanis knew he shouldn’t entertain his feelings or Rook’s and yet…he couldn’t help it… “It’d be my perfect date too,” he said quietly.

Rook looked at him with a smile that sent dancing twirls to Lucanis’ stomach again, before she looked back at her coffee, taking a sip, as if shyly trying to hide her growing smile.

“I think…” Lucanis began even if he didn’t really know what he thought anymore. “Once I’ve fixed everything, I’d like to go to Café Pietra again.” 

For fixing everything, he didn’t mean only saving the world and stopping the gods, as if that were a small task already, but also taking care of the crow’s businesses and loose ends, and especially, fixing whatever was going on with and Spite, if that was even something he could fix. He didn’t want to put Rook in danger, and it felt like that was all he could offer her at that moment…she deserved something more, something better, but Lucanis couldn’t stop his feelings.

“I’d like it if you wanted to come,” he finished, his voice low and husky.

“I’d love to.” Rook gave him another of those smiles that had Lucanis’ heart dancing.

“It’ll take me a while to fix everything.” That if it was even possible…Lucanis felt pessimistic about it yet whenever he looked at Rook, he couldn’t help but feel something close to hope.

“That’s alright, Café Pietra will still be there,” Rook said nonchalantly. “And so will I.” Her tone was softer now yet reassuring, just like her smile, and Lucanis couldn’t help his own.

This was a bad idea, probably, but the twirls in his belly and the beating of his heart didn’t seem to care. In moments like that, Lucanis had to wonder if Rook was real, or if maybe he had finally break in the Ossuary prison and he was making her and everything else up in his mind.

Lucanis didn’t know what to say, he was feeling overwhelmed by everything, by all his emotions, but Rook didn’t seem to mind his silence.

Slowly, she placed her open hand on the armrest, palm up. An invitation.

Lucanis looked at it for just a moment, before bringing his hand to hers. Rook gave him another of those warm smiles that had his heart dancing, and she closed her hand around his, intertwining their fingers.

Her touch was soft, comforting, grounding…safe, even.

She was real, she was there for him, and she was willing to wait until he could offer her something more than what he could then, something better.

It wouldn’t be easy, there was much to do, but with Rook at his side, her and on his, Lucanis felt more hopeful than he’d ever felt.

*

NA:

Both me and my Rook have fallen in love with this gentle, caring assassin and we want to hold him and protect him, but sometimes Rook needs to be taken care of too.

I think I want to write more for them.

If you liked the fic, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

[loveandfictionforall]

I ABSOLUTELY loved your Davrin angst thank you for the food haha ❤️ I was wondering if you could write something sort of spicy (only if you're comfortable) of Davrin x Reader sparring :)

Since you requested Davrin x Reader, the Reader will not be Rook.

As a member of Rook's team you felt sometimes like your sister. Cassandra often told you tales how she traveled with the Inquisitor, fighting against Venatori, rogue Templars and Bandits. All her tales had a touch of fantasy in it, you hadn't thought that her stories were more likely understated. But now, as a member of Rook's team, you felt like a novice, taking stumbling steps and hoping to come out of it in one piece. It churned your self-doubts as you began comparing yourself to the other members. Davrin was one of the most used comparisons. And as such he was simply required of him to help you get better. Thankfully he was someone who liked to help. Today was one of those days. Being with Davrin was a simple as breathing air. You felt comfortable around him and you missed him when he went with Rook. In a corner of your mind, you always worried for him, especially since Weisshaupt and his whole persona of sacrificing himself. Most of the time, you didn't want to think about it. It made your heart and head ache and tears would well up in your eyes until you would furiously blink them away. To rid yourself of these dark thoughts, you began stretching yourself, getting your muscles warmed up for when Davrin came. It was a quiet day. None of the other members were there and it was only you and Davrin.

"Sorry that you had to wait for me.", his dark rumbling voice teared through your thoughts like a sharp knife. Dazed you shook your head while turning to him and smiled at the taller man. "Are you ready?", was everything you said, not wanting that he apologized for something so trivial. The answering smirk made you gulp. You could feel your heart fluttering and you couldn't control your thoughts. I would definitively like a different type of sparring… He had to see how red your face became when you coughed. He had to because his smirk just got bigger. "Is everything alright?", his concern wasn't real, you could hear it in his voice. There was a small laugh in it and also some smugness. Your answer was to draw your sword. Twirling it with your hand, a smirk grazed your lips and then you charged. It was a swift and merciless dance you two danced. Both swords clashed together, metal hitting on metal, creating a unique song to which you danced. Soon your muscles began to burn and sweat gathered atop your eyebrows. Davrin moved so effortless while still being unmoving and hard. Most of the time you two were evenly matched but today, you could see a glint in his eyes. He was planning on something but you couldn't think about it much. His blows became harder, rattling your bones as his sword pressed against yours, weighting you down and making you tremble beneath his pressure. Your breath came out in pants. Did he always hold back or what was going on today?! You could even really comprehend that thought, when Davrin disarmed you with quick strokes of this sword, twirling your own sword out of your grasp. Shocked, you breathed in then you fell and with you Davrin. Your mind couldn't follow what happened but your body did. His warm hands still burned on your shoulders, where he pushed you. You could hear a sword clattering on the ground and feel his breath against your warm face as he towered over you and braced your head with his hands. "What.._?" You had no words, instead you stared into his eyes, pupils blown wide as Davrin smirked again. "Time for a different type of sparring." His voice had turned deeper and huskier, teasing your whole being. You felt like you were being lit on fire. His gaze was heavy, travelling along your body as if you were not wearing clothes. His eyes burned, you could feel it on your body as he stared starting from your hips, travelling up and up across your stomach, your chest, your neck and finally your face. Your breath hitched again. His eyes were swallowed by his pupils and as his tongues darted out to wet his lips, you couldn't stop that small moan form escaping. His hands traveled down your arms until they reached your wrists, roughly tugging them above your head. Davrin leaned closer. You swear, you stopped breathing while your heart hammered away. "So you want to some different sparring?", he purred. "Oh my… I spoke out loud, didn't I?", you trembled beneath his touch as his smirk grew. "Yes, you did, darling."

[writerfromshikahr]

Because I love Lucanis and Davrin in equal amounts, I have to write them on occasion.

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Falling for Two - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic (plus 1 Davrin)

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"Rook! Are you okay?" Lucanis shouted, his voice strained as he clung desperately to her arm. She dangled helplessly off the ledge of a tall building, her boots scraping against the wall in a frantic search for any kind of hold.

"Davrin! Help!" Lucanis barked, urgency sharpening his tone. "I can’t hold her much longer!"

Davrin scuttled over, grabbing Rook’s other arm. "AM I OKAY?" Rook snapped, her voice pitching higher with adrenaline. "I just fell off a building, Lucanis, and I’m dangling over certain death! How do you think I’m doing?"

"Noted," Lucanis grunted through clenched teeth, his arms trembling with the effort of keeping her steady. Slowly and carefully, he began pulling her up. Davrin, ever impatient, gave her a sharp tug, nearly yanking her over the edge...

The result was chaos. Rook tumbled onto the rooftop, sprawling awkwardly on top of both men in a heap of limbs and heavy breathing.

"Well, this is cozy," Davrin said, his grin spreading. "Never knew this is how you’d end up on top of me. In some weird ménage à trois with Lucanis, no less. Not hating it, though."

"Urgh," Rook groaned, scrambling to her feet and brushing herself off. "In your dreams, Warden."

Davrin raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Presumptuous much? I don’t dream about you… unless you want me to?" He winked, earning himself a light slap on the arm.

Lucanis, still on the ground, stared at the sky for a moment, stunned. The woman he spent every waking moment trying not to think about had just been straddling him mere seconds ago. It took every ounce of his discipline to shove those thoughts down before they could take root.

As he and Davrin stood, brushing off the dirt, Davrin chuckled. "Nah, if anyone’s going to have nocturnal imaginations, it’s this guy." He jabbed a thumb at Lucanis, his smirk brimming with mischief.

Lucanis shot him a dark look before turning to Rook. "I don’t sleep, Davrin. Or did you forget that?"

"True," Davrin replied breezily. "But just because you don’t sleep doesn’t mean you can’t—"

"Enough," Lucanis growled, cutting him off sharply.

"Come on, boys, play nice." Rook crossed her arms, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she tilted her head at Davrin. "‘Nocturnal imaginations.’ Those are the longest words I’ve ever heard you say in one sentence."

"And you’re welcome for it," he quipped, giving her a mock bow.

Lucanis shook his head, his gaze flicking to Rook. His eyes lingered just a second too long before he turned away. "Next time, just listen when I tell you about a drop."

"Hey," Davrin said with a shrug, "she can’t help it, Crow. She’s… challenged when it comes to all things dexterous. Not everyone’s gifted like us." His grin was devilish and infuriating.

"Gifted?" Rook shot him a look, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. "Is that what we’re calling it these days?"

Lucanis let out a low laugh at her jab, the sound rare enough to make both of them pause.

"Ouch," Davrin said, clutching his chest in mock pain. "That hurts, Rook. Truly."

"Good," she replied with a smirk, adjusting her gear. "Let’s just get moving before you both start fighting over which one of you is ‘more talented.’"

"Clearly, that would be me," Lucanis said coolly.

Davrin arched a brow, his grin widening further. "In what area, Dellamorte? Raw skill in offing blood mages? Or denial about anything regarding that lovely lady in front of us?"

Lucanis’s gaze flicked up to where Rook was crossing the next rooftop gap, this time without falling. His jaw tightened briefly, but he said nothing.

"I swear, one of these days, Davrin," Lucanis muttered darkly, "I will end you."

"Sure you will," Davrin replied breezily, his smile never faltering.

[starlsen]

A Scar's Caress

Fem!Rook x Emmrich Volkarin ✶ Lots of fluff followed by smutty goodness ✶ NSFW ✶ 6.1k words

Read on AO3

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It had been quite some time since the whole team had been able to gather at the dining table to enjoy a good meal together. Tonight, Lucanis had insisted that everyone make themselves available, because it had been far too long since any of them had taken a real break – especially Rook. She’d be the last one to admit she needed to take it slow, but was never one to turn down a plate of Lucanis’ signature paella, particularly when washed down with a glass of Antivan Red.

“That was amazing, Lucanis.” Harding sighed as she sat back in her chair, hands on her stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

“I told you to save room for dessert,” Lucanis said indignantly, hands on his hips. “I baked a pie.”

“Oh,” Her cheeks flushed. “Right. I knew that.” Lucanis raised a brow and she smiled sheepishly. “I’m not that stuffed.”

Rook’s mouth turned up with amusement as she cleared away the last of the plates and grabbed another bottle of wine, setting about topping up everyone’s drinks. Conversation had flowed easily throughout dinner as she and her companions exchanged stories, cracked jokes and enjoyed just… being. She felt lighter than she had in a while, finally able to set everything aside and pretend for just a couple of hours that nothing outside of these walls existed. That the weight of the world didn’t rest on the shoulders of everyone in this room.

“Thank you, darling.” Emmrich said as she poured more wine into his goblet, offering her a dazzling smile as she did so. She returned the gesture, affectionately brushing her knuckle under his chin before turning her attention to Taash and Davrin who, by all accounts, were now engaging in a heated debate about scars.

“That's nothing,” Taash snorted. “It's kinda precious, actually.”

“Precious?” Davrin repeated incredulously. “You think a scar I got from taking down a hurlock is precious?” Taash shrugged.

“Sure. Why not?” Davrin baulked at dragon hunter, before turning to Rook for support as she topped up his wine.

“Are you hearing this?”

Rook snorted. “Yes.” Davrin waited, brows raised.

“And?” He pressed when Rook didn't elaborate, and she pressed her lips together in an effort to suppress her amusement, shrugging casually.

“I'm with Taash on this one.” Taash smirked, folding their arms across their chest, and sat back in their seat.

“Told ya.” They said, and Davrin sighed heavily.

“Why are we talking about Davrin’s adorable scar, anyway?” Rook asked, setting the bottle down and returning to her seat beside Emmrich. The Grey Warden rolled his eyes.

“It’s the story that counts.” Taash said, turning back to Davrin. “Yes, it’s very cool that you took down a hurlock with a bunch of cracked ribs, or whatever. But the scar itself is…” They paused.

“Kind of pretty?” Rook offered, much to Davrin’s chagrin, and Taash snorted.

“Alright,” He said flatly, turning pointedly towards Rook. “I think it's time we ask our fearless leader.” Her friends snickered at the nickname they'd started throwing around within the last couple of weeks, to which Rook rolled her eyes as she brought her goblet to her lips. “I bet you’ve got some adorable stories of your own.” She arched her brow as she sipped her wine, and considered him for a moment.

“I think we should hear from Emmrich next,” She said, offering the man at her side a sweet smile, to which he chuckled and sat back in his chair.

“Oh, I don’t know,” He clasped his hands together in that way that made Rook’s heart soar. “I’m quite sure my scars don’t come with stories to rival the excitement of any of yours.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Professor.” Bellara said earnestly, her eyes shining. “All the things you’ve done in your career? I bet you have some amazing stories to share.”

“Well,” He mused. “There was an unfortunate mishap when I was a much younger, considerably less experienced necromancer.” He sighed, a note of nostalgia in his eyes. “You see, as members of the Mourn Watch, it is commonplace to raise skeletons in order to carry out work within the Grand Necropolis. And, being hungry for ambition and driven by my determination to prove my worth,” He balled his fists in front of himself to emphasise his words. “I attempted to raise a skeleton before I was ready.” Rook’s brows rose in surprise, though her lips curled into a smile.

“So what happened?” She asked, and he turned his gaze to her, smiling bashfully.

“Its coordination was frightfully misaligned.” He said, and Rook’s eyes widened as Emmrich placed a finger on his left pectoral, dragging a diagonal line across to his sternum. “Thankfully, I was able to get out of the way,” He paused and chuckled. “Well, mostly.”

“That’s a great story!” Bellara exclaimed. “I told you!”

“That’s so messed up.” Taash grumbled.

“Not bad.” Neve said, and Emmrich held his hands up.

“That’s it from me, I’m afraid.” Rook watched as he sat back in his chair and lifted his goblet to his lips, taking a sip of wine. His eyes met her own and her heart fluttered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“That was pretty good,” Davrin said, pulling Rook’s attention away from Emmrich. “So I’m willing to bet, as a fellow necromancer, you have something good, too.” She shrugged nonchalantly, sitting back in her chair.

“I don’t know, almost getting axed by a skeleton sounds pretty hard to beat.” Emmrich tutted from her side and she flashed him a grin.

“Come on, Rook.” Lucanis said from across the table.

“Alright, alright,” She said, all eyes on her, and sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want them to know about her scars, necessarily; she supposed, more than anything, her hesitancy came from never having actually told another living soul about them. She’d never told anyone how she got them. Never let anyone see them.

“You don’t have to share, if you don’t want to.” Harding said, and Rook blinked, looking over to find her friend smiling, and tried not to think about the scar on her forehead – or how and why she got it, all those months ago.

“It’s okay,” Rook said and cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. “Much like my esteemed colleague here,” She gestured to Emmrich. “I also attempted magic far above my station when I was way too young and way too hot-headed to realise how stupid it was.” Emmrich scoffed, and their friends laughed. “No offence.” She added, touching his arm, to which he rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“Alright.” Taash paused. “So… a spell went wrong, or what?”

“Something like that.”

“Where is it?” Davrin asked. “The scar, I mean.”

“Right here,” Rook said, pointing to her sternum. “All the way down to around… here.” She gestured down to below her knee. The table fell quiet, then, and she could feel Emmrich’s eyes burning into her. Taash let out a low whistle.

“Mierda,” Lucanis said quietly, and Rook shifted in her seat.

“Damn,” Davrin laughed, turning to Taash. “Now I see why you think mine are adorable.” Rook grinned as the others joined in his mirth.

“I stand by what I said.” Taash drawled, and laughter filled the dining table once more. “Who’s next?”

She was thankful for the diversion away from herself and knocked back the rest of her wine, all too aware of the man at her side, that his eyes were still fixed on her. She set down her cup and turned her attention to him to find him watching her thoughtfully, his brow slightly furrowed.

“What?” She asked, and he lowered his voice.

“I had no idea.” He said, glancing down at her body before bringing his gaze back to her own. “Darling, what happened?” She smiled, leaning in until her lips brushed the shell of his ear.

“Come to my room later and I’ll tell you,” She purred. “Maybe I’ll even show you.” She sat back in her chair and his brows shot up, eyes slightly wide, before clearing his throat and reaching for his wine once more. She flashed him a wicked grin and he chuckled, relaxing somewhat and shaking his head.

The truth was that while she’d dodged having to explain the details of the incident to her companions, she’d realised relatively quickly after meeting him that Emmrich was likely to be the only person she could share it with. He understood her in a way that nobody else could, and often seemed to know her better than she knew herself. And now, many months later, he was so much more than just a fellow necromancer, companion or friend. What they shared was… simply put, utterly magical, and they’d formed a bond that she knew could survive anything.

Not only that, but it had become increasingly difficult to ignore the way he made her feel, to ignore the all consuming desire that overwhelmed her senses whenever he was near – which was, incidentally, almost every single day. The alluring, dazzling and devastatingly charming gentleman had assured her they’d take things slow, to allow their relationship to progress organically; the only problem was that she wanted to take things further. Much, much further, and was confident that Emmrich was just as ready as she was.

There had been a handful of occasions in recent weeks in which she’d almost gone through with it, but as soon as it came to taking off her clothes, she’d freeze. She’d spent so much of her life hiding her scars that it felt alien to do otherwise. It had been almost a week since the last time she’d allowed herself to get carried away in the heat of the moment, driven by lust to throw caution to the wind; she’d been in his quarters and had become painfully aroused just listening to him read a passage from a book. She’d climbed into his lap, her kisses bruising and feverish, and he’d held her close and kissed her back with equal fervour, his broad hands roaming her body. Yes, Emmrich was definitely just as ready as she was.

And her scars were the only thing holding her back.

She’d remained wholly distracted for the rest of the evening, unable to think about anything other than getting Emmrich behind closed doors. And so, by the time they’d all decided to call it a night, she was all too happy to loop her arm through his and lead him away from the dining hall. She listened as he gushed over Lucanis’ skills in the kitchen, his appreciation for a delightful meal, and how exhilarating it was to share a story from his youth. As they reached the threshold of Emmrich’s quarters, he paused and turned to face her, a softness in his eyes as he took her hands in his own.

“Rook,” He said gently, and she hummed. “You know there is absolutely no pressure for our relationship to move forward, don’t you?” He ran his thumbs across her knuckles. “None whatsoever.” Gods, her heart ached with the affection she felt for him. She offered him a small smile and stepped into him, leaning up on the tips of her toes to press her lips to his. The kiss lingered for a few moments before she sank onto the balls of her feet and took a few steps backwards, towards her own quarters, letting go of his hands as she did so.

“Are you coming?” Is all she said, and after a moment, the corner of his lips turned up as he gestured for her to lead the way and followed in her stead. She tried to shake her nerves as she led him to her room, reminding herself how badly she wants, needs, this. She headed for the small meditation table before the expansive fish tank that filled the far wall, watching the candle flames flicker as Emmrich closed the doors behind them.

She listened to the steady, even stride of his approaching footsteps, and hovered a hand over the candles, the heat from the flames licking her fingertips. He was at her side, then, and she took another moment to admire the way the candles shone a fiery glow over her palm, the fish tank casting an icy blue hue across the back of her hand.

“I've never shared myself with anyone, not entirely.” She said into the peaceful calm of her room. “I've never known anyone that made me want to, y'know?” She pulled her hand away from the flames, turning to face where Emmrich stood, shoulders squared and hands clasped in front of himself, and nodded.

He was absolutely beautiful. The light of the fish tank cast his side in glorious aqua blue, his eyes appearing more green than hazel, contrasting with the warm shadows on his other side, candles all around them; and while dazzling was usually her go-to word to describe Emmrich, right now, it felt as though there were no words that would do him justice. His beauty, his kindness, his everything.

“But then I met you.” She said, and his eyes were so kind and earnest and caused an ache deep in her heart. “And those nights in the memorial gardens, you shared so much of yourself with me. Made me realise we were more alike than I ever realised.” His eyes dropped to the floor for just a moment, almost bashfully, the smallest smile tugging on his lips when he brought his gaze back to her own.

“You introduced me to your parents,” She continued. “You have no idea what that meant to me, Emmrich.” His eyes softened, chest rising as he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. “You make me want to share everything with you.” He closed the space between them.

“If you are ready,” He said, tucking her long, lavender hair behind her pointed ears. “Then it would be an honour, my darling.” He brushed his knuckles along her jaw, and her throat tightened, her heart beating a little faster again. She leaned into his touch, lifting a hand to his chest, to the scar she now knew lay underneath. She glanced down at herself, then raised her chin to meet his gaze once more.

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?” She hoped the playful tone in her words would take the edge off the nerves pooling in her gut, and Emmrich let out a breathy chuckle. He said nothing, at first; just smiled down at her, his eyes warm and safe and kind, always so kind. She raised her eyebrows just slightly, and then his lips were on her forehead in a gentle kiss.

“Very well.” He took a short step back from her as he unclipped the gold chain across his waistcoat, and Rook watched his fingers intently as they worked their way down, one button after the other. Watched as they pulled the waistcoat over his shoulders and set it down neatly on the chaise lounge. Watched as they unfastened his belt, the sound of leather sliding along soft calluses as it unwound from his hips. Watched as they slipped into luxurious red, unravelling the silken sash around his midriff. His usual gold cuff and leather glove were absent from his ensemble today, and she marvelled at how beautiful his hands really were; soft and warm and purposeful, bedecked in the finest jewellery.

She could watch those hands at work for an eternity.

As he unclasped the dainty skull pinning his collar together, she tugged at the bottom of his shirt, untucking it from his trousers, and his lips turned up slightly. Heat rose in her cheeks as he began unfastening the buttons of his shirt, slowly exposing his neck, clavicle, and sternum. She worked from the bottom until their fingers met, knuckles brushing, and she inhaled deeply through her nose as he slipped the shirt over his shoulders, revealing his broad chest, the gold bangles on his forearm chiming as he removed his shirt completely and dropped it on top of his other clothes.

Emmrich had always cut a very fine figure; his tailored clothes made no secret of his slender frame, but Rook hadn’t expected his shoulders, his chest, to be quite so broad. She followed the lines of his frame as it dipped in at his waist, his soft and slightly toned abdomen, and finally observed the scar running from his left pectoral to his sternum.

She brought her hands to his chest, tracing the line of the scar with her fingertips, and goosebumps flooded his skin under her featherlight touch. She hesitated for just a moment when he tensed, before he visibly relaxed and let out a breath. She could feel the heat crawling from her cheeks to the tips of her pointed ears as she touched him, her pulse racing, while he remained wholly still, hands once again clasped in his usual composure.

He was beautiful.

“Emmrich,” His name was barely above a whisper, and she finally looked up to meet his gaze, finding him watching her, a vulnerability in his eyes and something akin to uncertainty. She returned her attention to his chest and leaned in to press a soft, chaste kiss to his scar.

“I know that I am not exactly,” He paused, and she looked up at him. “Well, you know.” She tilted her head to the side and he huffed, his cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink as he averted his gaze. “I'm no Davrin or Lucanis, let's say.”

Her brows came together, then, and she reached for him, taking his cheek in her hand and gently bringing his gaze back to her own.

“Emmrich,��� She said, taking one of his hands and lifting it to her chest. “Do you feel that?” He glanced down to where she was firmly holding his palm over her racing heart, his lips parting ever so slightly, and hazel met violet once more. She smiled.

“That's what you do to me.” She said, and he chuckled bashfully. Her smile widened to a toothy grin, and added, “Among other things.” Emmrich laughed heartily, then, the pink in his cheeks turning a little darker, and she giggled, feeling the familiar ache begin to stir between her legs.

“You are beautiful.” She said as their mirth eased, and his throat bobbed as she took his other hand to her chest, guiding his fingers to the buttons on her shirt. “I want you to see me, too.” She tugged the bottom of her shirt from where it had been tucked lazily into the waistband of her pants, before letting her arms return to her side.

“Are you sure, darling?” He asked, and she nodded, taking a breath to steady her racing heart. He held her gaze for a moment longer before leaning down to brush his lips over her temple, and began unfastening the buttons. She closed her eyes and leaned into his kiss, the flush in her cheeks deepening, and gazed up into gorgeous hazel when he pulled back.

Though her racing heart wasn't because of her desires for the man before her alone, or the anticipation of what she knew was going to happen tonight – no, her heart was racing because she was finally letting someone in. Because she finally felt safe enough, finally had the desire to be truly intimate with someone, finally wanted to show someone the reminder of just how close she had come to dying; a fact that had utterly terrified her and shamed her as a member of the Mourn Watch.

But after Emmrich had confided in her about his own fears, she’d realised she’d found a true companion in him. And now, bearing themselves to one another, she knew she’d found her twin flame, her soul’s calling, and at long last was ready. Truly ready.

His fingers had reached the bottom of her shirt and he paused. She nodded, and he slowly pushed her shirt over her shoulders and she let it fall to the floor, and his eyes dropped to her naked torso. Her heart was pounding by now, and Emmrich's lips parted, his eyes darting across the expanse of her scars. Her breaths came a little shorter, a little faster, and she inhaled deeply through her nose and let it out slowly, willing her heart to slow down, willing for him to say something.

He lifted his hands, and she held her breath as he gently brushed her hair back over her shoulders, letting the long, lavender locks cascade down her back, and stepped back slightly.

“It was lightning magic,” She said, and Emmrich glanced at her before returning his gaze to her abdomen. “I mean-” She snorted nervously and gestured to them. “Obviously.” He reached for her, trailing his fingers over the lines branching across her body, disappearing underneath her pants.

The magic had entered her body just below her hip, the lightning forking up and down as it surged and left scorched skin in its wake. Jagged lines spread up and around her ribs, across her abdomen to her sternum and breasts; it branched down her thigh, coiling itself around her leg to her shin. The scars remained a deep, dusky pink, though they had healed many years ago.

“Rook,” He said quietly, his brow pinched together. She took a breath.

“They run almost the entire length of my body,” She said, and with trembling fingers, reached for the button on her pants. He placed his hands over her own, halting her, and swallowed hard when he knelt before her; he unfastened the button, pulled down the zip, and carefully tugged them down her thighs. She held onto his shoulders as she lifted one leg at a time so he could remove her pants completely, leaving her clad only in her undergarments.

He remained on his knees, his eyes roaming her body as he asked, “What happened?”

“The magic was beyond my abilities at the time,” She said. “I was tired of being told I wasn’t ready, that I couldn’t do it. I was so sure they were wrong, that I could prove them wrong, so…” She sighed. “I performed the spell in my quarters and I couldn’t contain it. I struck myself by accident.” She paused as her voice wavered. “And, uh,” She cleared her throat, blinking away the tears in her eyes. “It almost killed me.”

Emmrich's eyes shot up, then, and she could feel his gaze burning into her as she focused on the candles across the room, willing herself to calm, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I was terrified.” She admitted. “And I couldn’t tell anyone because what good is a necromancer whose greatest fear is dying?” Emmrich sighed, and she looked down at him, his brows drawn and such sadness in his eyes. She brushed her knuckles along his cheek. “But then… I met you.”

“Darling,” He said gently, so agonisingly gently, as he leaned into her touch. “I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn't,” She said. “Nobody does. I've never…” She trailed off, and he tilted his head to the side.

“You've never told anyone?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No,” She said, and his frown deepened slightly, before lowering his gaze once more to her scars. Then, he leaned in, and she inhaled sharply when he pressed a kiss to her abdomen.

“They are beautiful, Rook.” He said firmly, and placed another kiss on her hip. “You are beautiful.”

Her cheeks were blazing now, and she chuckled, threading her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, I don't know about that.” She said, and he looked up at her, his expression entirely too serious, and rose to his feet once more. She almost shrank back from the intensity of his gaze, and he took her face in his hands, cradling her jaw, his touch so tender she could have cried.

“I see you.” He said, and she swallowed hard as her throat tightened, tears threatening to fill her glistening eyes. “You are the most beautiful young woman I have ever laid my eyes upon,” He spoke so gently, so earnestly, and she sighed as she leaned into his touch.

“And,” He added, leaning in to brush his lips over hers. “There are none in this world more fortunate than I.”

She had never truly grasped what it could mean to be swept off her feet, but when his mouth met hers in a kiss so dizzying that it stole her breath and left her knees unsteady beneath her, she wondered if this was what it felt like. Her eyes slipped shut as she melted into him, chest-to-chest, their hearts beating wildly as one, hands cradling each other’s faces as though they couldn’t be close enough.

Lips fused in a slow, tender kiss, they moved back towards the chaise lounge. Rook reached blindly for the frame as Emmrich set a knee on the seat, sliding a hand down to her waist and around the small of her back as she found purchase at last and laid back, his body warm as he settled between her legs and leaned over her.

He trailed his lips along her jaw and down the length of her neck, his kisses gentle and unhurried and Gods, she was breathless as he reached her collarbone. The warmth of his breath left her skin tingling as his lips caressed her breast, then her sternum, and her heart all but soared out of her chest upon realising that he was slowly, and very deliberately, tracing the branches of her scars.

She couldn’t look away. Her chest rose and fell, watching as he took his time, eyes roaming across her skin, as though he was taking such care of where to place his lips next, worshipping her body with his mouth. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, sighing softly through parted lips as he kissed her stomach, then paused as he glanced down at her undergarments. His gaze met her own in silent question, his eyes softening when her answer came in the form of a single nod, and sat back on his knees as she lifted her hips to allow him to remove her underwear.

She blushed furiously when the corner of his mouth tugged into a deeply alluring smile, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her stomach, then her hip, before shifting further back on the seat and nuzzling the inside of her thigh with his nose, his lips barely brushing her skin, his eyes fixed on her own. By the Gods, the darkness in his lustful gaze sent a thrill running straight through her. He tucked his shoulders under her thighs, running his hands along her hips, and she gasped when he dipped between her legs and ran the flat of his tongue over her slit.

It was as though every nerve ending in her body was centred entirely within her sex, a feeling she could have only ever dreamed of; Emmrich worked his lips and tongue like a man starved, leaving her thighs trembling, chest tightening, toes curling. Every cell in her body was on fire, arousal pulsing through her, and she was breathless as she tipped her head back, her senses overwhelmed because his tongue, Gods, his tongue; warm and wet, gliding through her soaking folds, over and over, yes, yes-

“Emmrich,” She moaned, arching her back, and he slid a jewelled hand from her hip to her abdomen, his palm flat against her skin. She wasn’t going to last, not like this, the familiar feeling already beginning to swell deep within her core. She clutched his hand tightly, writhing against him, and cried out when he planted his mouth over her clit and began gently sucking, expertly rolling his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He groaned into her sex, the sound vibrating through her as he gripped her fingers that were closed over his own. She ached for release, was ready to beg for it, when the pressure building between her legs erupted with a final sweep of his tongue and she gasped sharply, her mouth falling open, her entire body tensing and trembling as her orgasm sent lightning surging from her core.

He slowed his tongue to gentle rolls as she rode out her high, his eyes fixed on her writhing body, marvelling at the way she moved and how utterly breathtaking she truly was - especially like this. Her moans gave way to breathy whimpers as her grip on his hand slackened, and with a satisfied chuckle, he turned to press his lips to the inside of her thigh and shifted to lean his forearms either side of her hips. He watched her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath and, admittedly feeling a touch smug, couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his mouth at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asked. It was all she could do to nod, because she was infinitely better than alright; she’d never been made to feel the way he made her feel, had never experienced pleasure quite like that before, and certainly never dreamed Emmrich could do that with his mouth. She hummed when she felt his lips on her hip, trailing kisses along the forked branches of her scars across her abdomen and breasts.

“Amazing,” She sighed, and he huffed a laugh before his lips found her neck once more as he settled between her legs. Feeling his hardness pressing against her, she let out a breath and guided his face back to hers, pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss. She moaned as she tasted herself on his tongue, running her hands down his chest and already feeling so dizzy with the way he was kissing her, his lips moving so easily, so expertly, with her own. Her fingers found the waistband of his trousers, and she pulled back from the kiss just slightly as she tugged at them.

“Take these off.” She whispered against his lips, and he nuzzled her nose with his own before nodding, brushing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth and making quick work of kicking off his boots and removing the last of his clothing. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as their eyes met and he leaned over her once more, hooking an arm underneath her shoulder to slide his fingers along her neck, threading them in her hair, gripping her thigh around his waist with the other.

She cradled his jaw in her hands and stroked her thumbs across his cheeks, her heart racing and his eyes searched her own, seeking permission. She answered with a buck of her hips and he laughed breathlessly, the sound curling around her heart and spreading warmth through her chest. He turned into her hand to press a kiss to her palm, returning his gaze to hers for a moment before leaning his forehead against hers as he slowly pushed himself into her slick heat. She gasped, body tensing, her brows coming together as heat flooded to her cheeks because Gods, he felt amazing inside her.

His breath was hot on her lips as he waited, stroking her thigh with his thumb, hardly able to believe he was tangled up with her; Rook, the most courageous and dangerously breathtaking woman he’d ever known – and she wanted him. He pressed a sweet kiss to the tip of her nose, then her lips, and she relaxed, offering him a smile that could shatter the world as she nodded for him to keep going. Affection blossomed in his chest at the gesture, and he closed the space between them to press his lips to hers as he pulled his hips back and sank into her again, a low moan rumbling in the back of his throat.

And that sound drove her wild. She whimpered, parting her lips to kiss him again, and when his tongue swept in to caress her own, she moaned and wound her arms around his neck. He began rolling his hips into hers, his movements masterful, as though he'd spent an eternity making love to her. It felt so right. Their bodies fit together and moved perfectly, as one - and finally, for the first time in her life, Rook felt whole. Complete.

She broke the kiss to look into his eyes, her brow pinched and mouth open as she gasped with every delectable roll of his hips into hers. He'd never looked more beautiful than he did in that moment; pieces of his usually pristine hair hung over his forehead, his eyes dark with lust, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. A fire ignited within her, unfathomably powerful and burning exceptionally bright; she'd never felt this feeling before, but greeted it like a long lost piece of herself as she welcomed it - and Emmrich - into her heart.

“I love you,” She whispered, and something changed in his eyes, a recognition, an understanding, and he smiled; wide and bright and absolutely breathtaking.

He chuckled breathlessly and nuzzled her nose with his own as he said, “And I love you, my darling.”

She returned his smile, a joyous giggle escaping her lips, and gasped sharply when he thrust his hips into hers, harder now, and her eyes slipped shut as she tipped her head back and moaned. Emmrich buried his face in the crook of her neck, his moans low and deep, and she was sure it was the most beautiful and holy sound she'd ever heard. She wound her arms around his waist and up his back, her fingers digging into the skin below his shoulder blades, clinging desperately as a familiar feeling began coiling around her core, twisting and tightening and building and building, an intense pressure mounting, her entire body tensing and trembling.

“Emmrich,” She whimpered, and he removed his hand from where it had been buried in her hair to clutch the arm of the chaise lounge, gripping her thigh tightly with the other, practically growling into her neck as he drove his hips into her, harder, faster. She tightened around him, her mouth falling open and arched her back, the air forced from her lungs as her orgasm slammed into her with the staggering force of a hurricane. She gasped sharply into his shoulder, crying out and making a sound she was sure she'd never made before, and with that, Emmrich moaned loudly, his movements stuttering, thrusting hard and haphazardly as he came.

The pleasure was utterly blinding, her heart thundering and chest heaving, leaving her on the verge of feeling delirious. She pulled back to nudge his temple with her nose, words failing her, and he slowly lifted his face from her neck, eyes dazed and half-lidded. He glanced at her mouth before leaning down to kiss her, their breaths heavy as their lips parted and came together again, slowly and tenderly, as his hips slowed altogether.

She brought a hand from his back to cradle his cheek, and he pulled back just enough to find her gaze as she brushed her thumb over his top lip and smiled. He quickly returned the gesture, and she couldn’t help the giggle that followed, feeling utterly giddy for arguably the first time in her life. He chuckled, capturing her lips in a single, lingering kiss before pulling his hips back and all but collapsing on her chest.

She brushed his hair back as he closed his eyes, absentmindedly trailing his fingers up and down the length of her arm with a contented hum. She wasn’t sure how long they laid like that, tangled up in each other until their breaths became slow and even, their hearts beating as one; but after a short while, she looked down at him and smiled as she continued to smooth back his hair.

“The dishevelled look rather suits you, y'know.” She said after a few moments, and he snorted.

“Never.” He said with a sigh. “A gentleman is anything but.” Rook grinned.

“I had no idea gentlemen could fuck like that.” She quipped, and Emmrich barked a laugh, shifting to look up at her as he leaned his forearms either side of her hips.

“Darling, I can do much more than that.” He said, his voice dangerously low. She bit her lip, her smile bright and wicked.

“Oh?” He hummed. “Tell me more.” She said, and his tongue darted over his bottom lip before he raised a brow.

“I'd rather show you, my dear.” She laughed, patting his shoulder and closed her eyes, lying her head back.

“Give me a few minutes and I'll be good to go.” Her smile remained as he chuckled, and she felt his lips as he pressed a kiss to the scars between her breasts.

“I may need slightly longer to recover.” He mused. “But I will gladly do this again,” He kissed further down her abdomen. “And again,” Another kiss. “And again.” She hummed happily.

“Sounds good to me.”

[thewardenisonthecase]

Early Morning

Lucanis Dellamorte x Grey Warden!Rook

Part two of Rest Easy

Read on AO3

Summary: The one in which everyone knows.

A/N: Small bonus chapter.

Bellara had woken up quite early, even if she had gone to sleep late, staying awake most of the night reading her serials. 

The downside of that was that her mind was quite foggy in the morning, and considering she had a full day ahead of her, she needed to clear her head. 

And what better way, she thought, than a nice cup of coffee. 

Slowly, she made her way to the kitchen. Lucanis never slept, which meant he would probably have some spare coffee to give her. Or maybe even brew a new one for her, as he often did. 

However, when Bellara entered the kitchen, she was surprised to see Lucanis wasn’t there. She called out his name but received no reply. 

Had by some miracle Lucanis slept through the night? Or worse, had Spite escaped with him? What if he was lost somewhere? 

Thoughts like these began to infiltrate Bellara’s mind when she heard snoring coming from the pantry. Instinctively, she decided to go check in there. Although it probably meant that Lucanis was asleep, she just wanted to make sure her friend was doing alright (and to reassure her anxious mind). 

She quietly opened a bit of the door, enough to take a peak, and as soon as she did, she had to stop herself from gasping. 

Lucanis was asleep…and on top of him was Rook. They were holding each other quite strongly, like one would grab a pillow when dreaming, not wanting to let go. 

Bellara couldn’t help but think this was just like her romance novels. For some time, she had noticed how Lucanis and Rook had been spending more and more time together. The stolen glances, the sighs. One night, when Rook was more intoxicated than usual, she had even confessed to Bellara about having a crush on him, but thinking it wouldn’t lead anywhere. She felt the same as she did when she read those romance novels in which the couple took too long to get together, internally screaming ‘just kiss him’ whenever she saw the two of them around the Lighthouse making eyes at each other. 

Now, Bellara felt like she was reading the conclusion to the story, when  the protagonists finally admitted their love and spent the night together. 

‘Wait, no, don’t think about that about your friends, Bellara.’ She thought. ‘I should go before one of them wakes up.’ 

She carefully took a step back, closing the door with the utmost caution. She sighed in relief, until she heard a voice behind her. 

“Don’t think about what?” Harding had asked. 

“Oh, Lace! I-I didn’t see you there.” Bellara said nervously, realizing she had spoken out loud.  “What are you doing here, it’s so early.” 

Harding raised a brow. “This is the time I usually wake up to drink coffee.” She pointed towards the door. “Is Lucanis inside, I need-”

“No!” Bellara shouted, barring the door. “I mean, uh, he can’t do coffee right now.” 

At that moment, Neve walked into the kitchen, having heard what Bellara said. 

“Why? Is he sick?” She crossed her arms. “And why are you standing like that over the door?” 

Bellara began to sweat in panic. “No, he’s just…he well, uhm, he asked me, to-to not let anyone in. He didn’t want to be bothered this early.” 

“Truly?” Neve said, a brow raised in disbelief. “I remember Lucanis usually being very awake at this hour.” 

“Well, he-he told me he wanted to sleep in today.” 

Harding’s eyes widened. “This truly is the weirdest time to be alive.” 

Neve gave Bellara a sympathetic look. “Look, Bel, you’re a great friend, so I say this with no malice. You’re a terrible liar.” 

Bellara sighed. 

“Why are we hanging out in the kitchen?” Taash said, as they too entered. 

“We, uh,-” 

“Bellara, dear, is everything alright there? You seem quite distressed.” Emmrich asked her, having followed behind Taash. 

“Professor! Everything’s good, I just-”

“Has anyone seen Rook?” Finally, Davrin walked in and Bellara lost it. 

“THEY’RE IN THE PANTRY!” Bellara shouted. “Lucanis and Rook are sleeping in the pantry!” 

Silence befell the kitchen as everyone stared at Bellara. 

“What?!” Davrin asked in disbelief.

“Oh my…” Emmrich covered his mouth with his hand. 

“So that’s why you were acting weird.” Neve said

“When you say sleeping…”  Taash began “do you mean-”

“Like Rook on top of Lucanis. The two holding each other like teddy bears.” Bellara said hurriedly. 

“They were definitely doing it.” 

“Taash!” Harding reprimanded. “Not everything is sex.”

“But it sounds like it!” They defended themselves. “I mean-”

Before they could continue, the door to the pantry swung open, and an angry Rook looked at all of them.

“Can you all keep it quiet?! Some of us are trying to sleep.” 

The door to the pantry closed with a bang, and the sound of a key being turned was heard as all hell broke loose in the kitchen. 

Rook sighed, turning to Lucanis, who had a tired smile on his lips. “I think they all know about us now.” 

“It was bound to happen.” 

She flicked her wrist, casting a silencing spell on the door, to cut off the noise of the banging and shouting from the other side. She walked towards him, sitting on the bed. “You do know that means they’ll talk, right?” 

He shrugged. “Let them. As long as I have you with me, I do not mind.” 

Rook smirked. “Charmer.” She gave him a small and quick peck on his cheek before saying. “Now lay down again. I have a week’s worth of sleep to make up.”

He chuckled, resuming the position they were in. “As you wish.”

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET MASTER POST

[early conversation with Neve]

[on the way to the Ossuary]

[Teia ships it]

[in which Lucanis sees the purple nightgown for the first time]

[meeting Taash]

[Rook is clumsy]

[after Weisshaupt]

[in which Evka is a woman’s woman]

[Rookanis first kiss]

[Rookanis drunk handholding fluff]

[experimentalmadness]

The Last of Regret

A little Emmrich/Rook fluff near the end of the game. I thought a certain moment could have used some more power so I gave it a go. We do love seeing a slightly more disheveled and panicked Emmrich, after all.

I'm being a bit vague on details because it contains massive endgame spoilers if you haven't finished the game. Suffice to say. If you want some good Emmrich and Rook hurt/comfort and angsty fluff, I've got what you need.

There was no air here. 

No sound. Not even the whisper of wind. 

All color had lost its saturation. 

There was no warmth, nor was it cold. And still Sivan shivered, hugging herself. This was not like the rest of the Fade. And this was all there was. All that there was ever going to be. Forever. One long endless looping staircase with only the dead for company. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, eyes closed. She couldn’t feel if she was crying. Her heart hurt, but all sensation had lost its bite. She wished she could cry. Or scream. How long had she been walking in circles?

Varric told her she had to let go. She had to accept what had happened, but how could she when this was all her fault? She should have stopped Varric from confronting Solas, she should never have sent Harding out with such a small team, and Bellara….she hadn’t been fast enough. She should have caught her, should have chopped off the blight tendril before it had snatched her away. 

Too late now. She was just some stupid city elf up against literal gods. Why did she think she could win? She was never good for anything. She’d failed Varric, failed her own city, failed…oh no. No, she couldn’t think of Emmrich. Not now. If she thought about him she’d sink to the ground and never get up again. 

C’mon kid, what did I just say?

”It’s too hard!” She cried. “I’m not ready!”

No one’s ever ready, but you can’t stay here. 

Varric wasn’t really here. It was only in her head. All of it had only ever been in her head. Stupid, stupid; should have known Solas would play tricks on her. Should have seen it coming. But the part of her that could hear Varric knew he was right. She couldn’t stay here. Even if she couldn’t defeat the gods she couldn’t fade away in this prison. A clean death, a good death in a fight, that was the way to go. Not disappearing like this. 

As if tugging her boots through swamp mud, Sivan made herself climb the endless looping stairs. She did not look up. It would be Harding’s face again, Varric’s, Bellara’s, even her own parents’ and she couldn’t face them. Couldn’t let them see her like this. Failure, worthless, mistake…

I thought I felt it over here!

The sound was far away. “Lucanis?” Just another memory, another lie. 

It’s faint, but he’s definitely on to something.

”Neve?”

Sivan stopped, looking around. But the expanse was as gray and devoid of life as ever. Maybe that was all there was. Echoes. But her heart stirred. 

The Fade is distinctly thin here.

”Emmrich?!” There was no mistaking it that time. She had heard his voice. Bright, with his usual encouragement, but with a note of unmistakable panic that sent her running up the rapidly forming fade-steps. “Emmrich!” 

Did you hear that?

That was Davrin! She could hear them! It wasn’t just the hollow sorrow eating her alive. 

The Fade shimmered ahead and Sivan felt air in her lungs for the first time. A sheen of white glinted against the gray. Just like the small Fade tears she had seen so many times before. There was hope here, fragile and wild and oh it was so good to feel something, anything outside of the crushing regret. 

She went running into the white tear and the solid arms that caught her. 

I’ve got her!

We’ve all got her. Pull!

Sivan spilled out into the bright light. Her heartbeat resumed in her ears, the blood in her veins moved again, and she could feel. Everything. The colors of the Lighthouse almost made her shield her eyes. Her lungs felt as if they would burst. 

But she was out. 

On the crumbling courtyard stones. 

And she was certain she was alive. 

“Rook!” Davrin laughed in astonishment and it was such a good sound, such a pure sound. 

It was then she realized the arms around her had not let her go, but were in fact squeezing ever tighter. “Darling, my darling…”

Sivan wrapped her still nerveless arms as tight as she could around Emmrich. He was real. Her hands went over the back of his coat, up to his jaw, her fingers skimming through his gray hair. He was here. She kissed him even though she knew how particular he was when it came to public displays of affection. She didn’t care. She had to feel him, had to make sure this wasn’t another one of Solas’ endless tricks. 

He returned her kiss with such fervor she was grateful she was already kneeling on the cobblestones. Her eyes spilled over with tears. He crushed her to him as if needed to check if she was as much a reality as she herself doubted. She didn’t care if she couldn’t breathe. 

“Think we could give ‘em some fucking privacy?” Sivan could have laughed at Taash’s words but her mind was far too jumbled. Everything was so bright, so loud, so solid. 

But Emmrich was all warmth and safety and familiarity. Already he pressed light kisses against her cheeks, the tip of her nose, under each eyelid, and with each she felt a little more real. “Extraordinary as ever, dearest,” he said softly. “Only you could return from the very Void itself.” 

“A prison,” she gasped, trying to order her thoughts. How to even begin to explain? “For the gods. Solas…he…”

”Breathe,” Emmrich commanded gently, a hand on either side of her face. “Slowly.”

His dark eyes were welcoming, guiding—was he crying? She flailed in a poor attempt to reach out for him again, but he held her still. His chest rose and fell in a deep rhythm that she felt compelled to mimic. The tightness in her lungs eased in pieces. Emmrich brushed the curls from her eyes and when she felt less like she was choking she let herself relax against him, tucking her head under his chin. 

“Darling, should I take us inside? You would be far more comfortable if—“

”No,” Sivan said against his coat, burrowing as deeply as she could, curling around herself. “Stay. Please.”

”But you’re shivering.”

”No’m not.” Her teeth chattered. 

“Rook, it is a delight to have you contradict me again, even though I admit I have no desire to let you go as yet,” Emmrich said with a laugh that sounded so tired, so grateful. “I thought that I might not…that—to have the last things we said to one another be that horrid argument…”

Sivan reached up and placed a tentative finger against his lips. “Love you too much to care about that.”

“What?” 

Her dear man looked so shocked. And how Sivan adored those looks of bewilderment when she would sneak in a compliment here and there. His tear-stained eyes went wide. “Was scared to say that before, too,” she admitted. “Everyone I ever loved, they’ve…”

It was his turn now to stop her thoughts from spirling. The blanket void of regret was going to be hard to shake, Sivan realized with a pang. 

Emmrich hushed her, his fingertips skating down her cheek. She knew when he was studying her. His deep look of intent and awe stilled some of her shivering. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it so suddenly. Stupid! She should have planned it out better. Made some sort of occasion out of it as he no doubt would have.

“Say it again, dearest. Please.”

His faint, pleading voice undid the last string of regret tied about her heart. Sivan smiled. “I love you.”

Emmrich swallowed up her words with a kiss that nearly knocked her backwards. Heat pooled within her as she tried to match him. This, oh this was never something she would ever take for granted. The sterile edges of what that prison had done to her sloughed off. 

“To think you lost only to hear you say that,” Emmrich said as Sivan rubbed her forehead to his, taking comfort in simply sharing the same breath. “You truly are indomitable, Rook. One of the many reasons I love you, too.”

Her face hurt from smiling. When was the last time she’d heard those words? When was the last time anyone had ever loved her? Ghosts now, all ghosts, but Emmrich was here. Alive. And wholly hers. 

“I think I can stand now,” she said. Her body was still shaking, but from something other than grief. 

“Then I will help you up, my love.”